


The Knight

by robinasnyder



Series: The Knight'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, FYSL Hotter Than Hell Fanwork Exchange, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer Shurley was once a prince of the United States of the American Kingdom. Then he was disowned and disinherited after his brother Michael became head of the family. Lucifer wants revenge. He can be patient though. When his best option for revenge comes in the form of Prince Samuel Winchester, member of the family the Shurleys despise the most, Lucifer decides to play a long con. He can seduce Prince Winchester and use the Prince's influence to get back at Michael. The biggest problem with Lucifer's plan is Sam's kindness. </p><p>An alternate history Victorian America AU, set in 1892.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebatman06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebatman06/gifts).



“Fergus, how are the takings?” Lucifer asked. He scrubbed his face with a towel. His last fight had gone longer than he wanted and besides still sweating he imagined that he smelled quiet rank.

“Ah ah, Just because you’ve known me for so long does not mean you get to be disrespectful,” Crowley said. 

Lucifer knew exactly who Crowley was. Fergus Roderick MacLeod, a Scottish tailor who’d changed his accent, his social class, and everything about himself when he found a ship to the United States of the American Kingdom. Crowley, the “Englishman” made a better impression and was a lot more in vogue than a poor Scottish tailor. 

It helped that Crowley was also the owner of the best fight houses in Virginia. Unlike their gentler cousin, the USAK legalized fight houses. It was one of the true icons of their ideal. Men of any station could be seen there, making bets and shouting out nonsense. Lucifer had once been a financier for Crowley’s houses before Lucifer’s inheritance was pulled. Now he was a fighter. It made him more money than starving. 

“Crowley, how are the takings?” Lucifer asked. 

“You can use your noble voice on me all you want. We got a real Queen and real nobles where I come from,” Crowley said. 

“None of which would give you the time of day, or have put you on a fine track to citizenship and possible nobility for your sons if your business becomes worthy of the King’s attention,” Lucifer pointed out. That was the dream, start at the bottom, build up and make a lot of money. Make enough for the economy to become dependent on you so the King would grant you a lesser nobility. Every boy, youth, and man in the fight houses dreamed of that someday. 

Except for maybe Lucifer. Before his fall, he’d been high up in the ladder enough to know where the con lied. 

“Neither would they end up working for me,” Crowley said. His smirk told Lucifer Crowley had what he wanted: Lucifer’s humiliation. “Now, what do you want, darling, I’m a busy man.” 

“Give me a lead, Crowley,” Lucifer said. 

“Ah, you’re asking me about the Prince, again?” 

“When am I not? I didn’t see him,” Lucifer said. 

“They didn’t come today, darling. But don’t fret. The boy can’t stay away for long,” Crowley said. He moved away from counting the day’s earnings to sit behind his desk. Lucifer sat on the bench Crowley kept for when one of his sweaty fighters needed to talk to him privately. Normally Lucifer would slip into one of Crowley’s nicer chairs. But normally Lucifer hadn’t just come in stinking like a hog.

“I need a plan, Crowley, a good one,” Lucifer said. “Or I’m going to go with my original.” 

“I’m not letting you set up some kind of fight in the stands just so you can protect the prince you’ve got your heart set on. It’ll bring down my profits and my credibility. Both of which you’re benefitting from, right now.” 

“Barely,” Lucifer said. 

“You’ve got an apartment from the money I pay you each month from your investments. You make good money on bets which will go away if they shut down my house,” Crowley said. His voice rose just a bit, flirting with yelling, but still normal enough. Crowley would yell at his subordinates when it suited him. He’d yelled at Lucifer all of twice, and only ever to calm Lucifer down. Lucifer could see that Crowley still wasn’t certain where they stood. 

The Shurley House was the oldest house in the American Kingdom. They were old FFVs[1] , which alone meant they would be revered. But their roots also traced back to Mother England and her nobility. They had been minor family members, merchants. Now they owned fleets for shipping. But Lucifer wasn’t a Shurley anymore. He had wanted to use the name, as loudly as he could because having a penniless fighter in the family would disgrace Michael. But even Lucifer was smart enough to see this wouldn’t work in his favor for long. Dock workers would be more than happy to take out their anger at the Shurley’s too low pay on the one brother they could get away with pummeling. Lucifer had gotten enough broken noses and hospital bills to realize when to fold and when to use the stage name “Milton”. 

It amused him anyway, but then he didn’t know any of the lower class who read Paradise Lost, or would have cared so long as he won them money. 

“Do you have a plan?” Lucifer asked. 

“It’ll take some patience,” Crowley said, letting his chair swivel a bit from side to side. Sometimes Lucifer wanted to laugh in Crowley’s face. He tried so hard to project what he thought a powerful man should act like. Lucifer knew enough to know Crowley spent half his time imitating Lucifer’s noble gait. 

“I can wait. But tell me what you’re scheming.” 

“Elder Prince Winchester found his man here, Castiel, you remember,” Crowley said. Lucifer nodded along noncommittally. There was some family relation, enough for Castiel to be a Shurley, not enough for him to have ever had a title, when even Raphael had a title. 

“Don’t try to hold out the tension. It doesn’t work,” Lucifer drawled. He didn’t get to condescend to anyone much, so he took every opportunity when it presented itself; especially with Crowley.

“It does or you wouldn’t be telling me to speed it up. But I will acquiesce to your demands. Castiel is still one of the best fighters I ever had. If you can beat him, then you’ve got a good chance of young Prince Winchester to notice you.” 

“He already notices me,” Lucifer bristled. 

Crowley leaned in. “Because you’re one of our oldest fighters who can still compete with the big sells. You even win occasionally. But you have never beaten Castiel. You have to beat him, Lucifer, and not just beat him, knock him into the ground. You think you can dredge up whatever strength you’ve been saving for a rainy day and take him out?” Crowley asked.

“I don’t know. What do you plan to do to tip the scale in my favor?” Lucifer asked. Crowley scrunched his nose like he’d smelled something terrible. “You owe me, Crowley.” 

“Excuse me, but I don’t owe you a thing. You gave me a loan, I’m paying you back. You introduced me to people, I gave you a job. If anything, you’re the one who will owe me.” 

“What do you want?” Lucifer asked, trying not to grit his teeth. 

“You’ll owe me a favor, if this works,” Crowley said. 

“You think it won’t?” Lucifer asked. 

“I think that Dean Winchester doesn’t have his man fight as often as Castiel used to. I think I don’t remember Castiel fighting more than twice in a day anymore. I think Castiel is still one of the best fighters that this house as ever seen, even no longer working for the house. I think you’re good, but you’re not as good as him. And if you fight dirty and he figures it out, and he’s very good at figuring it out, then you’ll lose any shot you ever had of catching your young Prince’s eye.” 

Lucifer knew Castiel was a beast in the ring. A normal man might have one or two fights a day. In his heyday, right before he contracted to Dean Winchester, Castiel could fight five times a day. He’d spread his day out, one or two in the morning, one a few hours later, and two before closing hour. Not that Castiel had much choice. Everyone in the house knew Castiel had massive debt. Five fights in a day at one of the highest pay scales, and Castiel had still barely been afloat. 

“But?” Lucifer asked. 

“If you do lose, but you don’t get caught, it can still work in your favor. You’re looking for a faster score out of fear your target will escape you. I think, even if you don’t win your match, if you can prove you can fight then younger Prince Winchester might stop staring at your back and start looking you in the eyes. You know those pretty blues are your best feature.” 

Lucifer smirked. It was a guess, a shot in the dark really. While Prince Sam had been seen taking plenty of women to events, there were no rumors about him bedding women, or men, or anyone at all. He was too clean, too careful. Even Prince Dean and Prince John had rumors around them, and they were both happily married and most likely faithful to their wives. 

Sam was too clean, which meant he had something to hide. Lucifer was hoping it would be carefully hidden homosexual interests. Sex made people easier to manipulate. It made them stupid. And for a type of relationship that good noblemen supposedly shouldn’t even think on, attempting to find a partner could be very complicated and very dangerous. Lucifer was not unaware that plenty of nobles at least tried out their body men for those types of relationships. Even if it was only once, chasing the allure of a taboo, Lucifer would have an in.

But Lucifer would never know if that was even a possibility if he couldn’t get near the man. And the best way to get near to Prince Sam was to be his body man, his guard. Best way to do that was to catch his eye at the fighting houses. 

“Alright,” Lucifer said. “I accept your plan. Do I need to sign on a dotted line?” 

“For this type of business, a verbal agreement is best,” Crowley said. “Though you should be aware if you renege on our deal, I’ve got a lot of very good dirt on you that I can assure you will make it to the Winchesters.” 

“I’ll behave,” Lucifer said. This time he couldn’t keep from gritting his teeth. 

“Good, then we have work to do,” Crowley said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] First Family of Virginia


	2. Chapter 2

Sam rapped on the door to his brother’s bedroom. It wasn’t ideal to live with your brother, his brother’s wife and their son. But it was better than living at home with mom and dad, or, God forbid, at the White House with Grandpa. Besides, Dean was good at keeping secrets, because Sam was good at keeping his as well. 

“Come in,” Castiel’s sleep-rough voice called from the other side of the door. At least Sam hoped it was only sleep. Sam slipped in, shutting the door behind him. 

Lisa was up and moving around, wearing a chemise and drawers combination that was lacey and light due to the heat of Virginia’s summer, though it covered her expressly private areas. At least Sam assumed it did, but he was very carefully not looking. She went for a dressing gown when he came in anyway. Dean was lying in bed, naked except for the blankets. His hand rested on Castiel’s back, stroking the base of his spine. Castiel at least had the common decency to pull on his drawers.

Sam was fully dressed. He used to nervously twirl his hat in his hands when he’d first moved in with Lisa and Dean. The twirling had become much more rapid when Castiel had first been added to the king sized bed. Now Sam was just exasperated that his family was lying about during the late morning hours. 

“Ben’s already at school,” Sam said. Ben was old enough to walk by himself to school, though it was hardly a far walk. He would return about the time Sam expected himself and Dean to return. Ben stayed at school later than most boys his age for tutoring. They could have hired a tutor for their home, but the Winchesters had every reason not to want another person in their home.

They didn’t have many servants in the small noble house. A woman cooked dinner for them and two women came on alternate days to clean the house. None of them exactly wanted their dirty secrets to be aired out.

“Thank you for seeing him off, again, Sam,” Lisa said. She went to Sam and kissed his cheek before going to her boudoir to get ready for the day. 

“Missouri has breakfast waiting down stairs,” Sam said, glaring at Dean. Dean had tugged Castiel back down on the bed and was lazily kissing him. 

“Now, boys,” Lisa said, warning in her voice. Castiel at least sat up and looked ashamed. 

Castiel still fit rather awkwardly into their family. He’d been with them for over a year and a half. Dean had courted him on and off for two years before that, though Castiel hardly recognized it as such. Lisa had been extremely happy with the arrangement. She was as flexible as they came. Sam often heard Dean brag about her ability to twist like a circus contortionist, but her ideals were just as flexible. Sam had accidentally walked in on them more than once to know that Lisa liked being worshiped by two different men at once. 

Lisa smiled and tugged Castiel into a kiss. Sam looked away in order to avoid seeing the all too adorable and all too common nose nuzzle Lisa used with Castiel. For Sam it seemed too intimate to watch. He liked Castiel. He was friends with Castiel. Which was why Castiel had confided with him that Dean and Lisa’s small affections, like when Lisa ran her nose against his cheek or when Dean stroked his thumb over Castiel’s spine, made Castiel feel the most secure in their relationship. Sam had quietly confided this to Lisa and Dean, but only to remind them that Castiel was still being paid by them, and he was of a much, much lower status. It would be easy for Castiel to believe he would be abandoned one day. 

“Do I not get a kiss?” Dean asked. 

“You do when you get out of bed,” Lisa said. Sam was still looking away, though he could hear the combination serious and teasing tone Lisa had perfected because of Dean. 

“I’m going!” Sam said loud enough that he knew they heard him. 

He turned on his heel and left. Sam shut the door and walked down to the kitchen where Missouri Mosley was cooking breakfast. She wasn’t much younger than their father, more than old enough to remember a time when people owned other people in their country. She’d been owned for a while, though she’d run during before the war. Sam was old enough to have been born right at the end of the fighting. Dean wasn’t even old enough to really strong memories of the time. 

“They awake yet?” Missouri asked. Her voice was high but every bit as motherly as Mary’s. 

“They are now,” Sam said. 

“Well, let’s hope for your sake that they’ll actually get out of bed in the next hour,” Missouri said with mischief in her eyes. Missouri was the only one besides the bedroom’s occupants and Sam to actually know what was going on. Though she only knew because she took one look at them and lectured Castiel very strictly on the importance of not getting Lisa pregnant. Missouri’s psychic abilities were scary sometimes. 

“Yeah. It’s been a few days,” Sam said in an off handed manner. Missouri was hardly fooled. 

“You want to see your devil.” 

“He’s not my devil,” Sam said in repetition. They’d had this argument many times already. Sam had spluttered and blushed at first. Now he just sighed and stated the same denials verbatim.

“Well, he makes a good impression of it, if I’m reading the signs right.” Sam could hear the scolding that would come if he wasn’t careful.

“Do you ever read them wrong?” Sam asked with a grin. He knew it would get her riled. 

“Now, Samuel Winchester, it’s not nice to question a person’s gifts.” 

“I know, Missouri, I know. But you haven’t met him yet,” Sam soothed

“I don’t need to, Sam. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and you’ve never even spoken to him.” 

“I like it when he wins, is all,” Sam said. “The household budget certainly likes it when he wins,” he added. 

“Just be careful, Sam. Not everyone is as trusting or as good as you or your family are,” she cautioned. 

“I know, Missouri, I really, truly know,” he said. He didn’t need her to say it for him to know it. But he where knew her caution came from: worry for their family. None of them wanted a scandal, especially not with the very real chance that Dean or their father might be made the next King. Dean, Castiel and Lisa’s relationship alone was enough to get at least one of the three of them arrested, and the entire rest of the family blasted off the political scene for many generations to come.

“Here, you might as well eat,” Missouri said, dropping a plate in front of him that was homemade southern goodness. 

“Thanks,” Sam said. He tucked in, glancing over the paper that he’d brought in earlier and left where he could find it. He tried to read every article, but he cared a lot less about the women’s movements and the news of scientific advances. His eyes went for politics, justice, and occasionally foreign news when the papers got it before his office did. He was completely finished by the time Dean and Castiel came down.

“Smells delicious,” Dean said, sitting down and starting to eat.

“Thank you very much, Miss Missouri,” Castiel said, sitting down and beginning to eat. 

“See there, Dean? Why can’t you be more polite,” Missouri asked. 

“I am polite. When it counts,” Dean said. 

“Yeah, to diplomats and politicians,” Missouri chided. “Dean, you’re never going to win any votes if you can’t get along with a normal man.” 

They all knew that while there was a joke in Missouri’s tone that she was being serious. Grandfather Winchester had won on the common man’s vote. The Winchesters had been common before that as well. Dean and Sam were the first generation to be born noble. Dean was good with the common man, but he always needed to be better since it was unlikely their family would ever sweep the noble votes.

“They like my folksy charm, don’t they Cas?” Dean asked, leaning over into Castiel’s personal space. 

“I believe we have agreed that I am a bad source of information on normal men,” Castiel intoned. Sam couldn’t help but smile. Castiel was a brilliant fighter, but he wasn’t as good with people. 

“Eh, don’t worry,” Dean said. “It’s not the normal men you need to charm.” 

“Dean,” Sam, Castiel and Missouri said all at once. Dean liked to flirt, which was fine, except that if he flirted in the wrong place people would find out that the rumors about him and Castiel were true, and even worse they might find out just how involved Lisa was as well. 

“Leave me alone,” Dean said and went back to his eggs. Sam split up the newspaper, passing what he’d already finished to Dean and Castiel’s side of the table. Castiel slowed down his reading speed when he read with Dean so they’d always finish at the same time. 

Sam knew that Dean didn’t want to talk about it. He never slipped in public. He was good with his public face, but Sam could tell that Dean flagged under the strain of his secret. He openly doted on his wife and son, his parents, grandfather and Sam. He could even be nice to Missouri in public occasionally. But he couldn’t show any kind of affection for his body man, lest everything came out. Sam knew Dean hated it. 

“Can we go now?” Sam asked once Dean and Castiel finished their plates. 

“We didn’t finish the paper,” Dean said. 

“I promise it will be here when we get back. So can we go?” Sam said insistently.

“Fine, fine,” Dean said. He plucked his hat off the table and led them out. 

Sam walked behind Dean, while Castiel stood on Dean’s left. They always walked like this when they went to the Fight Houses. Castiel was always a bit more on edge when they went and liked be in a good place to protect either brother. Sam didn’t mind, he was fine with not needing to add to the conversation. These walks were as close to solitary as any of them could get. 

It wasn’t that Sam or Dean got attacked or threatened often, although it did happen from time to time. Instead they were often seen by people, and people wanted to talk to them. John didn’t get as bombarded with people as Dean could because John was known for not listening to people who came to him on the street. As much as Missouri fussed at Dean, and as much as Dean was an ass when he wanted to be, he didn’t really think of people too differently. If someone brought him a problem he’d listen, even if he couldn’t help them at all. 

Sam got bombarded with women trying to catch his eye, but that was another issue altogether. Sam was fine with people knowing he was a wash for King, but he had not interest in mothers throwing their daughters at him, or girls throwing themselves at him. 

Walking with Dean and Castiel assured as much privacy as any of them could get on a walk. In all honesty, outside of being surrounded by their grandfather’s secret service, walking with Castiel was as safe and unmolested as the brothers got. Castiel could and would turn people away. He was well known enough for all but the strongest or most stupid to keep from causing problems. He also could stare at young women until they felt so uncomfortable that they would leave just to get away from him. 

Castiel’s presence assured a bit of quiet thought as they walked toward Crowley’s House. They didn’t live too far away. Castiel slipped off to the lockers while Sam and Dean placed their bets for the day. This place, like the White House, was safe for Castiel to leave the Winchesters alone. Crowley had some of the best guards in the country working at his houses, especially given that Crowley paid his guards much more than the government did. Dean told Sam once that Crowley reaped the benefits of government training by luring secret service men away with a salary boost. 

“Anything good on the books?” Dean asked. 

Crowley kept books open for bets during the day. When he knew certain people were coming ahead of time they were given specific fight slots. The Winchesters rarely came on the same day. Sometimes they’d come to this particular establishment a few days in a row. Sometimes they would go weeks without coming to this particular house. 

Castiel, who had once been a regular on the fighting lists, now fought irregularly. He now had a waiting list of regulars who wanted to try him out and see if he was still in as good a shape. Dean always bet on Castiel when that was the case. Castiel didn’t always win, but he won much more often than most. 

“Calm down. I want to see who Castiel’s up against today,” Dean said. Castiel had agreed to two matches. 

“Anyone interesting?” Sam asked in an offhanded manner. It rarely mattered, since Castiel won more often than not. 

“Yeah, he’s got Lucifer in his second match,” Dean said.

“What?” Sam demanded. He nearly shoved Dean out of the way so he could see for himself. There it was, clear as day, Castiel was paired off against Lucifer. 

“You know, I won’t be upset if you don’t vote for Cas, though I promise you’ll lose money if you don’t,” Dean said. 

Sam shot Dean a glared which just made Dean smile more broadly. Sam had tried to keep his interest in Lucifer quiet, though he supposed it was hard to hide from Dean. Sam bet on Lucifer every single time, even in matches where Lucifer was practically assured a loss. Sam knew he needed to change his habits or risk getting caught. He just always had some sort of dumb, giddy fantasy where Lucifer realized Sam was betting on him so often and decided to return the favor. Sam normally cut those thoughts off before they got too far, but they were there. 

“For that I’m not letting you see the book until I’ve made my choices,” Sam said. He also took an extra long time to check. Dean was grumbling loudly by the time Sam returned the book, even given that Dean spent most of the time smirking at Sam in near triumph. 

The brothers placed their bets and went to their box for the nobility. Some lesser known establishments couldn’t separate nobility from the common man. Crowley had two floors, higher seats for the nobility which had actual chairs, and packed floors for the common man. He also had one box on the ground for nobility who liked to be closer to the action. The walls were a bit higher and it was raised partially off the ground. It also only had benches. Sam and Dean sat in the back because both of them were almost freakishly tall and neither could stop themselves from standing and shouting when the matches started. 

Dean and Sam loved the fights. Both of them had been into boxing when they were in university. It was just not acceptable for nobles to jump into the ring or Sam knew Dean would have signed up a long time ago. Sam would have once or twice as well if he could have gotten away with it. Sam supposed with as far out of practice as they both were, neither of them was in much shape to be able to beat anyone anymore, at least not in the ring. 

Fights came and went. The brothers compared wins and losses, glancing occasionally at their bets to see who picked more winners and who won more money. They picked who did better betting each day. At the end of the month they always tallied their totals: number of victors chosen, amount won minus amount lost, number of win days. Whoever lost would end up buying the other expensive alcohol and they would drink to their luck for the future. 

When it came Castiel’s turn Dean was smiling cockily. People always bet when Castiel came up to fight. Most men picked Castiel’s win, so Dean didn’t normally win as much of a percentage, but he also got some of the cut as Castiel’s patron. Some men just would bet against Castiel, hoping they would catch one of Castiel’s off days and win in excess. 

Castiel entered the ring. He, like his opponent, was wearing black pants and boots, both of which were provided by Crowley. Fighters were fitted for the uniform when they first signed a contract. Everything was be laundered by the House and they would find their clothes in their locker the next time they came.

The ring was big enough for two men to have plenty of room to move in, but not enough for them to truly avoid each other for long. Men pressed in on all sides, screaming at the two fighters: cheers, jeers, encouragements, demands, threats, or just general yelling. A man moved around the inside edges of the ring. He would act as referee. In Crowley’s house, a match ended when one man stayed down for a count of ten. It didn’t matter how he was made to stay down. 

Castiel wasn’t a small man; in fact he was taller than his opponent. He also wasn’t lithe or wiry, but he almost looked so next to the very large, muscled form of the man Castiel was about to fight. Sam noted that the opponent at least wasn’t stupid. He didn’t shout at Castiel, or proclaim how he could break him. He eyed Castiel warily. 

“This is going to be interesting,” Dean said. He could clearly see what Sam was seeing. 

Castiel made the first move, coming in for a punch before having to jump back. The opponent was built like an elephant. He wasn’t slow, but he could take a hit. Castiel’s punch would have landed, but if Castiel hadn’t fallen back, then his opponent would have landed a hard punch into Castiel’s ribs. The opponent wasn’t stupid at all. He understood his own momentum. He understood Castiel’s smaller build and his speed. The man might even have watched Castiel fight before. 

Castiel frowned ever more. But then he rarely smiled. He even more rarely showed emotion during a fight. His inscrutable face and almost complete silence sometimes unnerved his opponents. But the man in the ring with Castiel stayed silent as well. He lunged this time. He didn’t throw himself at Castiel, though he looked like he meant to. Instead he jumped, which caught all of them off guard. He came down, slamming his fist next to Castiel’s neck, possibly breaking his collarbone with the force of the hit. 

Castiel rolled with the hit. He turned away from his opponent. To move out of reach he shoved at his opponent’s ribs with an open hand, using the force to propel himself away from his opponent. The two began to circle each other, looking for weak spots. 

They both lunged at the same time, coming body to body. Castiel did not necessarily excel with that much closeness, especially with such a physically powerful opponent. The opponent started to rain down blows on Castiel’s body. Castiel did much the same. 

It was a distraction. Sam could tell the opponent had seen Castiel fight before, but he clearly hadn’t seen enough fights or he’d have known what a stupid position he’d placed himself in. Castiel’s greatest strength was his balance. 

Castiel hooked his leg behind his opponent’s, pulling the man’s leg out from under him and completely destroying his center of gravity. As the man began to fall back Castiel followed him, but was controlled. It allowed him to stay in close. He drove his fist up, into the man’s ribcage, hitting the diaphragm. The man would be too winded to get up. He would be dazed both by the hit and hitting his head on the ground. The referee counted one. 

Castiel got up. The referee counted two. Castiel circled around the opponent until he stood on the opposite side of where he’d stood before. He stood on the man’s left, the matching side for Castiel’s injured collar bone. The referee counted three. Castiel kicked the man in the ribs. Sam knew Castiel had broken them. The referee counted four. The opponent wouldn’t be able to make a loud shout in pain because of the damage to his diaphragm. The noise from the audience muffled any chance of hearing the opponent’s pained gasps. The opponent rolled onto his non-injured side and away from Castiel’s foot. The referee counted five. 

The referee counted six. Castiel stared down at his opponent who was starting to try to sit up. The referee counted seven. Sam nearly winced in sympathy. The man should have just stayed down. Castiel raised his foot and stomped on the man’s broken ribs. There was a loud sound produced this time. The referee counted eight. The referee counted nine. The referee counted ten. It seemed the opponent was smart enough to stay down. 

“You ever forget how exacting Castiel can be?” Sam asked Dean as the referee declared Castiel the winner. Neither of them compared their winnings. They’d both bet on Castiel for this round and they’d both bet the same amount. It did not change their overall scores. It only gave them a few more pennies in their pockets when they went to cash their winnings. Dean would get a bit more money because he was Castiel’s patron, but that never factored into Dean and Sam’s game. 

“Sometimes,” Dean admitted. Castiel walked out of the ring to get some water and a towel while the other man was taken to medical. Castiel would be back in a round or two to fight against Lucifer. That thought made Sam’s heart twist. 

“Sometimes?” Sam encouraged. He had a hard time getting anything out of Dean about his and Castiel’s relationship. Sam knew they were close because he lived with them. But Sam only saw what Dean, Castiel and Lisa allowed him to see and no more. 

“He’s normally a lot of head tilts and confusion. It’s easy to forget sometimes just how incredible he is. I know what he does, I know how he fights. He’s helped me practice sometimes myself, but it’s different to know it and to see it.” 

“I understand,” Sam said. He left it at that. He had to leave it at that. He didn’t want to accidentally encourage Dean to say anything that might incriminate himself or Castiel. If they got found out, Dean and Castiel could be imprisoned. Lisa’s reputation would be ruined, but at least she wasn’t doing anything illegal. 

Sam settled back in his seat, leaning against the back of the box to ease the ache in his back that came from sitting on an uncomfortable wooden bench for too many hours. Lucifer would be out soon. Sam was going to get to see him fight Castiel. Sam wasn’t certain Lucifer had ever done that before. He didn’t remember seeing it anyway. Sam had been coming to Crowley’s House since before Lucifer started fighting, but Sam didn’t come every day so maybe he had missed past matches.

The losing opponent from the previous match was cleared away. It was Castiel and Lucifer’s turn. Sam shifted to the edge of his seat almost instantly. Castiel didn’t look as sweaty. He’d gone back to dry himself off and drink some water. Everything in the House was provided by Crowley, including water, all of which was carefully guarded again tampering. Castiel was going to fight a second match. For some men this would have been a lot. More than two could seem like a lot. When Sam had first met Castiel he was doing up to five matches a day to try and pay off debts he’d accrued high enough that he hadn’t even considered Dean’s job offer until Dean had told Castiel that he would pay them all. 

Sam had seen days where Lucifer had up to four matches, though Lucifer never won the forth, and rarely won the third. He was only human, though still a very competent fighter. Castiel was something special, and besides that he was younger and had been fighting much longer. No one knew exactly where Lucifer came from, but he was at least ten years older than Castiel, and closer to John Winchester’s age than to Sam’s age. 

Sam knew it made his interest all the more pathetic. And yet he couldn’t keep his eyes off Lucifer as he moved, shifting his balance to the balls of his feet. Lucifer was taller than Castiel. Lucifer was taller than Dean. Lucifer was as close to Sam’s height as Sam had ever seen. He was probably a bit leaner than Castiel, but his muscles also had more body to spread across and Castiel and Lucifer weren’t that different in body shape. Lucifer preferred quick kills; endurance was never his strong suit. He studied opponents and found weak points. Sam didn’t doubt for a second that Lucifer had carefully studied Castiel before putting his name on the list. 

Lucifer darted forward, aiming toward Castiel’s more injured side. Castiel didn’t flinch; at least that wasn’t the word Sam would use, though Castiel would. Castiel would be slower on that side so he moved more wholly to protect. This would be fine with another opponent, but Lucifer’s strength had always been feinting. Sam could see the change in Castiel’s face, which meant he understood his mistake. 

Lucifer’s punch knocked into the opposite ribs from where Castiel was defending. He landed a hit, a good solid hit that would bruise enough for both Dean and Lisa to try and kiss it away later. But for the privilege of landing that hit, Castiel got him hard in the jaw. The way Lucifer turned his head told Sam that Lucifer knew that would be the price he’d pay. Lucifer’s face would bruise, but there was no break and he’d lose no teeth and the bruise wouldn’t be quite as bad as it could have been. 

Sam expected Lucifer to jump back and circle the ring. This was what he normally did. Lucifer liked to study his opponents. Though he made fast attacks to try and throw his opponents off, Lucifer still liked time to study. Sam realized that Lucifer had already studied Castiel; had probably seen Castiel’s previous match. Lucifer stayed close to Castiel, his fist driving up into Castiel’s diaphragm exactly as Castiel had done to his opponent in the previous match. 

Castiel wheezed and stepped back. He wasn’t down; he wouldn’t go down from that, not when he needed to be able to protect Dean. But for just a moment Castiel lost his center of balance. Lucifer jumped at his chance. He actually jumped on Castiel, throwing his shoulder into him. 

Castiel stumbled back and took a swing, punching Lucifer in the ear. Sam winced in sympathy. That kind of hit could really mess a person up. It was distracting, too close to the brain. Lucifer seemed to bend, but instead of moving away his fist came up into Castiel’s belly. Castiel drove his knee into Lucifer’s stomach. 

Instead of hunching over more like Sam expected, Lucifer’s leg caught the one leg Castiel had on the ground and wrenched it into the air. It seemed that Lucifer had taken the belly hit to keep Castiel from realizing he’d shifted his weight. It also gave Castiel less balance than normal. Castiel was hard to beat because he was hard to get down. 

Castiel fell, and it wasn’t like a normal fall where Castiel would fall on his ass and be back up in seconds. Lucifer had forced Castiel back to the wall. Castiel didn’t have enough time to correct before the base of his head slammed into the end of the short wall. Castiel was down. The referee started the count. Lucifer stood over Castiel, blood on his lips and his cheek already swelling. 

Sam didn’t have long to look before he realized that both he and Dean were standing, and Dean was shouting something. The referee was counting, but either Castiel was too dazed, or he was completely knocked out from that hit. It was dangerous. But more dangerous was how worked up Dean was getting. Sam reached out, finding a spot where Dean’s waistcoat had ridden up so Sam could reach his shirt. Sam found a patch of skin and pinched and twisted has hard as he could. 

Dean let out a pained shout and glared at Sam. But this point the crowd had erupted, which meant that the referee had finished the count. That didn’t matter. Dean’s anger didn’t matter. What mattered was that if Dean didn’t calm down he would blow his and Castiel’s secret. Dean was glaring, but Sam only returned a level, steady look. Sam knew that Dean was scared. They’d both seen strong fighters have their careers ended from hits like that. They’d seen a man die from a similar fall. But they’d also seen men walk away alive with only mild injury. The neck and head were tricky. 

Dean looked away first. Sam’s eyes went back to the ring. They were moving Castiel to a gurney and carrying him out. Head and neck injuries were common with fighters. The fact that Castiel still wasn’t moving scared Sam. He couldn’t imagine how Dean felt. Sam dragged Dean back down to sit. They couldn’t go immediately anyway. Castiel needed to be checked on by a doctor. 

“Three more rounds and we’ll go find him,” Sam said. “Let’s just finish our cards.” 

Dean nodded but made no sounds. Sam turned his eyes to the ring. He looked everywhere, trying to see if there was blood. He didn’t even look at the following match because he was looking to see if Castiel had bled when he hit his head. 

The three matches passed in something of a blur. Sam noted the tallies of wins on his card, but he couldn’t cajole Dean into doing the same, so Sam wrote it in for him. They had to pretend like everything was fine. When Dean was worried about someone he loved, he had a hard time lying. 

Sam took Dean by the elbow and led him to the winnings table. Sam was surprised by how much more was in his portion. It took him a moment to remember that he had bet on Lucifer, and few probably had. Castiel was meant to win. Yes, it was a second match, but Castiel didn’t often lose his second match, and he never lost like he just had. 

Sam nudged Dean toward the medics. He had to hold tight to Dean’s elbow to keep him from going too fast or seeming to eager. Dean sulked in response. That was fine. Sulking was good. People would think that Dean was sulking for his loss of winnings. That was fine. That was safe. 

Sam let Dean go when they got to the private room the medics had placed Castiel in. Castiel had his eyes open, staring at the door. 

“Dean,” Castiel murmured. 

“Cas,” Dean said in relief. He moved quickly to Castiel’s side. He didn’t bother to sit down. He just bent down and kissed him. 

Sam blushed, not so much from the display but by the sense of wonder on Castiel’s face. Sam looked away and tried not to feel the jealousy he couldn’t quite shove down. It was hardly fair. Dean was terrified. They still didn’t know if Castiel would be okay, but Sam knew Dean would keep Castiel and love him even if he was made a complete invalid. Sam desperately wished that someone loved him like that, just as much as he desperately wished that he loved someone like that.

“How are you feeling?” a voice said from behind Sam, causing him to jump. He moved out of the way, allowing the doctor to come in. Sam shut the door hurriedly. He realized that while no one had probably seen, given that Sam’s huge frame had blocked the door, someone could have seen. Sam hadn’t even thought to reprimand Dean for his slip. Dean couldn’t kiss Castiel in public. They could only be affectionate in private. Normally Dean was fine with that. He didn’t like being thought of as less than a man, and Dean nearly lost his mind anyone called him a queer. But normally Dean wasn’t so afraid. Sam couldn’t allow himself to make such a mistake again.

“Sore,” Castiel said. “May I move?” 

The doctor walked to Castiel and helped him sit. “We examined you earlier. Since you can sit up on your own we think you’ll be okay. But we do need to you try standing.” 

Both the doctor and Dean attempted to help Castiel stand, but Castiel batted their hands away. He was able to stand on his own. He didn’t even sway, though his eyes didn’t seem quite focused. “I feel a bit dizzy, though not anything I cannot work through.” 

“You’re not going to,” Dean snarled. 

“I will agree with the Prince,” the doctor said. “It will be better if you can sit and rest for a while. Give yourself an hour to relax. Then you can call a cab to go home. I don’t suggest walking around much for at least a day, and taking it easy for the next week.” 

“We’ll make certain he does,” Sam said. Dean lightly pushed Castiel back so he would at least be sitting on the bed. 

“I’ll take my leave, then,” the doctor said. All three of them watched the doctor leave, waiting to hear the heavy sound of the door shutting completely. 

“Don’t ever do anything so stupid again,” Dean the second the doctor was gone. 

“I didn’t mean to, Dean,” Castiel said. 

“If you were that hurt from the previous fight, you should have bowed out,” Dean said. 

“I was not, Prince, I promise you,” Castiel said. He fell back on protocol when he got very nervous. Normally it just made Dean angry, which always made it worse. 

“Then he did something wrong. He must have done something to you. No way you just go down like that normally.” 

“I assure you, Prince, that was not the case. I know when my matches have been tampered with. No. This was just a time when all factors came in the favor of my opponent. He is not a bad fighter and he is smart. He used my weak points against me, and set me up so that I might fall that way. He would not have been able to plan such a victory, though he may have hoped for it.” 

“I hate him,” Dean said. 

“He isn’t that bad,” Sam said instantly. He didn’t even need the glare from Dean to know his opinion was not welcome on the matter. 

“Sam is correct. Lucifer is not so bad. I have not fought him before, but he had become quite good since he first arrived. Had I fought him first, I would have won, but I was just tired enough that he could win. It will most likely never happen again.” 

“You got hurt, Cas,” Dean said. 

“I often did,” Castiel said. “I do not get hurt so much anymore.” 

“I’ll be back in an hour,” Sam said. “Dean, try to make Castiel sleep,” he instructed. 

When Dean turned to nod at him, Sam knew that Dean would at least be in his right mind. Or Castiel would stop them from getting caught. Sam didn’t want to be there for their awkward conversations. Sam’s presence would only make the conversation more awkward. 

Instead, Sam left the medic station and headed toward the lockers. He rarely got to go that far back behind the scenes, but Castiel would need his clothes. People moved about in the halls, but few of them paid him much mind. Sam rounded a corner and nearly ran into someone. 

“Apologies,” Sam said instantly. Then he saw who he’d nearly run into. 

Lucifer looked up at Sam with icy blue eyes. His hair was damp, but he wore normal clothes. Sam normally felt his face heat up when he blushed, but he didn’t this time. He quietly thanked God for that small gift. Lucifer wore grey pants, and a shirt a lighter shade of grey. His jacket was black and unbuttoned. In his hands were clothes. 

“My apologies,” Lucifer said. Sam had heard him speak before, but he was normally shouting in triumph, or calmly talking to his opponent as they walked around the ring, driving the other men mad. But Sam hadn’t heard him say real words before, at least not ones Sam could hear.

“It’s fine,” Sam said. 

“Have you seen Castiel?” Lucifer asked. Sam blinked. 

“Yes, he’s fine. The doctor told him he’ll need to rest for a week, but he should be okay.” 

Lucifer looked relieved. “I am glad. I hadn’t meant to cause such an injury.” 

“I believe you,” Sam said. Lucifer’s eyes met Sam’s for a moment and this time Sam did feel his face heat up. He broke eye contact, looking down to the clothes in Lucifer’s arms. He realized that he recognized the hat. “Are those Castiel’s clothes?” 

“I figured I could collect them for him, a small apology,” Lucifer said. 

“And an excuse to see how badly you’d injured Castiel,” Sam said. 

“Am I that transparent?” Lucifer asked. “He truly is alright?” 

“I don’t believe he’s happy, but the doctors believe he’s okay, so he’ll be okay,” Sam said. “Don’t worry. It was a good fight. Were you watching the previous match?” 

“Yes, your Highness,” Lucifer said. It jarred Sam for a moment. He’d never spoken to Lucifer before, but Sam realized that probably everyone in the house knew who he was. 

It was then that he realized that Lucifer kept glancing at him and glancing again. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. Sam wondered if Lucifer felt as nervous around him as Sam felt about Lucifer. Certainly Lucifer didn’t hide it quiet as well as Sam, but then Sam had been raised to be a politician and to hide what he didn’t want others to see. Lucifer was doing a good job for a normal person. 

“It really was quite good. I mean, it was intelligent of you to watch the match. Castiel is the best,” Sam said. He could hear the pride in voice. Sam wasn’t Castiel’s patron. But Castiel was his friend and Castiel was Dean and Lisa’s lover. Of course Sam felt close to him. 

“Yes, he is,” Lucifer said. 

“Did you make well off winnings this time?” Sam asked. 

“Yes, I did,” Lucifer said. “Highness, I feel I should apologize if I have made you lose money.” 

Sam laughed and he was very happy to hear that it didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “On the contrary, I made quite a killing off the match.” 

“You did?” Lucifer asked. He sounded genuinely surprised and much more genuine than he had at any point since the conversation started. Maybe that should have bothered Sam, but it didn’t. He was used to people hiding themselves from him when they spoke. They changed who they were when they spoke to the Prince. 

“Yes, I always bet on you,” Sam said. And he wished he hadn’t said that, except that there was a look of surprise on Lucifer’s face that Sam couldn’t feel bad for eliciting. 

“I can’t imagine why,” Lucifer said. He had on a small smile. “Let us be honest with each other, Highness. I am not on the high end. I win many more than I lose, but I do not have the skill some of the younger fighters have.” 

“Yes, but you study your opponents. You’re smart. I like that. It makes everything more unpredictable. And you’re quite fast,” Sam said. He mentally patted himself on the back. He admired Lucifer’s skills even more than he admired Lucifer’s body. He was proud of himself for being able to focus on that topic. “You’re always very entertaining.” 

Lucifer smile got a bit bigger and Sam was reminded of a fox that caught a hare. “It is my pleasure to provide you with pleasure, Highness.” 

“Uh, yes,” Sam stuttered, or what he would consider stuttering by his personal standards for himself. He could feel his face heat up. He’d hoped in the darker halls that Lucifer would not notice. But with the way Lucifer’s lips split into a wide grin, Sam knew Lucifer could see. It suddenly occurred to Sam that maybe Lucifer was flirting with him. Sam brushed that thought aside. There was no way. Men couldn’t flirt so openly. Lucifer must be teasing and Sam had taken his bait. 

“Should I still try to see him?” 

“Hm?” Sam asked. He’d slipped off into his own thoughts. 

“Castiel? Should I try to see him?” 

“Well, it would certainly be more polite. But Dean is more… possessive of Castiel when he loses. I’m not certain he’d be happy to see you.” 

“Your brother doesn’t like his property being damaged,” Lucifer said. “It is understandable. A smart patron will make certain his man rests when he is injured, so that he might heal and be able to fight and win again much sooner.” 

“Yes,” Sam said. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like Lucifer had just given him an excuse for Dean’s behavior, one that Sam could use to help cover. Sam always had to wonder what Dean would do if Sam moved out, found a wife. Though Sam moved in when he knew he would not take a wife. “Are you?” He started. 

Lucifer smiled. “It’s not as uncommon as you’d think,” he said very quietly. “And a wise man learns his alibis and sticks to them.” 

“I don’t like rumors,” Sam hissed. 

“Neither do I, Highness,” Lucifer said, softer still. He glanced around. The hall had people in it, but none of them were paying them any mind. People had fights to get to and jobs to do to keep the house running. “If you’d like, I could show you one of the practice rings.” 

“Yes, I would enjoy that,” Sam said. He would, actually. It was rare for patrons to be allowed in the back. But Sam’s only possible horse in the race was Castiel, and Castiel was injured at that moment. Plus, Sam was with a contract fighter. Where was the harm? 

Lucifer turned and began to walk off. Sam followed Lucifer back. The hallways were narrow and darker. It reminded Sam too much of the time he’d been taken back on a tour of a ballet house. He looked up and could see the second floor, men and women running around doing their jobs. Lucifer turned down a hallway and Sam followed. 

It was easy to follow Lucifer. Sam had been odd because of his height, though his father was also tall, and so was his grandfather, though not a giant like Sam. Even Castiel, who was normally as tall or taller than his opponents looked short compared to Sam and Dean. Sam was still taller than Lucifer, but the difference wasn’t so bad. 

Lucifer ducked into a room and Sam followed. The room was mostly dark, until Lucifer opened a few of the shutters to allow some light. Sam shut the door. The breeze that flitted through the room felt nice. Virginia in the summer could be very uncomfortable. The fight houses were always especially warm, given the press of bodies. The high ceilings helped a lot. Sam understood of course why Crowley would build second and third floors that were more like a theatre, it helped with the heat. 

“You like fighting, Highness?” Lucifer asked. He leaned against the wooden frame of the ring. 

“I boxed when I was in school,” Sam said. “I was quite good.” 

“I imagine you were,” Lucifer said. “Would you like to continue?” 

“I would have, but you know,” Sam said with a shrug. 

“I do,” Lucifer said. 

“So,” Sam said. “Lucifer Milton?” 

Lucifer smirked. It looked good on him. “Few people comment on the whole thing. They think I’m trying to create a scary persona.” 

“They don’t get the joke,” Sam agreed. 

“It’s nice to find someone who does,” Lucifer said. He eyed Sam. Sam was used to feeling on display, or like someone was undressing him with their eyes, though that was mostly behind ornate fans from girls who hadn’t quite learned how to hide their interest. Lucifer was studying him and Sam felt stripped, not to his skin, but to his bones. He wondered if that was what Lucifer’s opponents felt like. 

“You’re staring,” Sam said. “It’s rude.” 

“My apologies, Highness.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. 

“I feel as if I should doubt that,” Sam said. He smiled because Lucifer was smiling. 

“You should,” Lucifer admitted. “Although I do have to wonder, why you would be talking to me at all.” 

“Because I want to,” Sam said. Lucifer looked honestly surprised. Sam understood. 

“I apologize for correcting you, but I have a hard time believing that,” Lucifer said. 

“Why?” Sam asked, smiling some. “You know that I enjoy fighting. I also told you that I like the way you fight. Why would I not want to talk to you?” 

“I hadn’t assumed you would be interested in me,” Lucifer said. His words felt honest, and they felt tentative. 

“You’re good, and smart, and it turns out discrete,” Sam said. “Brilliant really. I don’t know why someone hasn’t hired you, or decided to be your patron.” 

“Apparently they don’t see what you see,” Lucifer said. He seemed hopeful. Getting a patron was a big deal, it meant being able to fight less and practice more. It meant better money. Castiel had admitted to Sam that the few patrons he’d had kept his debt from swallowing him whole. But then Dean and Castiel did have a different kind of bond. 

“Has no one ever been your patron before?” Sam asked. 

“They see me as too old, I’m afraid.” Lucifer’s tone and smile were self deprecating. Sam wondered if Lucifer worried about a time when he wouldn’t be able to win anymore. 

“You’re not,” Sam said. “You’d probably do better as a noble’s man, even.” 

“I would hope,” Lucifer said. He looked past Sam, not at Sam. 

And idea struck Sam and he wondered why it had never occurred to him before. “Can you be discrete?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. 

“I mean, much more than even now. And can you keep secrets?” 

“Are you asking me to do something illegal?” Lucifer asked. 

“Does it matter?” Sam responded. 

“Honestly, no.” 

“Then I would like to hire you,” Sam said. 

“Excuse me, but did you say you would hire me?” Lucifer asked. He crinkled his brow and turned his head away from Sam, where one of his ears would be closer to Sam. It was like he was certain he couldn’t have heard what he’d just heard.

“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s going to take up a lot of your time. I’ll need you with me whenever I go for an event, or if I am to appear in public, and sometimes to accompany me and Dean. We’ll begin with a month’s trial, and if you and I are both satisfied, and I feel I can trust you, then I will hire you in a more permanent capacity. In that time I may ask you to move into one of the Winchester houses, for everyone’s convenience.” 

“You’re actually hiring me?” Lucifer asked slowly.

“Yes, I am. Do you find my terms to be acceptable?” Sam asked. 

“Will you still have me fight?” Lucifer asked. Sam smiled. It felt predatory even to him. From the look in Lucifer’s eyes it probably felt the same to him as well. 

“Not always, but you need to keep your form.” 

“I will,” Lucifer said. 

“Then do you accept?” 

“Of course.” Sam was pleased by the eagerness in Lucifer’s voice. Sam couldn’t deny it felt nice to be wanted. Lucifer would most likely feel the same. “I should speak to Crowley then.” 

“No, I will,” Sam said. 

“I wouldn’t like to inconvenience you, Highness,” Lucifer said. 

“It was quite a mess for Dean to talk Crowley around to get Castiel’s contract.” 

“Yes, but Castiel was still high in his prime when your brother hired him. Crowley would have lost a lot of profit.” 

“Do you think he won’t lose anything on you?” Sam asked. 

“Not if you pay the severance fee, and I continue to enter fights occasionally,” Lucifer said. 

“Then it should be easy, and easier still if I go with you,” Sam said. “Shall we?” he asked. 

“Yes, but,” Lucifer looked down at the clothes he still had in his hands. 

“Ah, yeah, give them here,” Sam said. “Look, why don’t you go ahead. You probably know Crowley better anyway.” 

“I do,” Lucifer admitted. 

“Maybe Dean just barging in wasn’t the best idea last time. I promise to be there in a moment.” 

“You won’t change your mind after I’ve already told Crowley, will you?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam laughed. “No, I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Good, because that would be embarrassing,” Lucifer said. 

“I won’t embarrass you,” Sam said. He realized after the words were out how significant they sounded. But he didn’t like the idea of Lucifer humiliated. He was powerful and quite smart. There had also been something in Lucifer’s joke that sounded too unsure. Sam had watched Dean tell the truth and try to laugh it off like it was a lie often enough to recognize it in someone else. He didn’t know how Lucifer had been humiliated, but someone had hurt Lucifer once. Sam didn’t plan on doing that to him as well. 

“Highness?” 

“Yes?” Sam asked, being pulled from his thoughts. 

“I can’t leave if you’re going to lean against the door.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said. Maybe he should have been a bit embarrassed, but he smiled instead. He rather hoped that Lucifer would talk to him like this often. He stepped aside and Lucifer left. 

Sam walked out after him, going the opposite direction of Lucifer. He remembered his way back vaguely and it wasn’t hard to find people who would direct him back to the medic’s station. He entered Castiel’s room and shut the door behind him. Dean sat next to Castiel, who had lain back down. 

“That took you a long time, Sammy. Did you get lost?” Dean asked with a grin. 

“Of sorts,” Sam said. “Here, Castiel,” he said, setting the clothes down on the table next to Castiel’s bed. 

“Thank you, Sam.” 

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t actually go get them,” Sam said. 

“Then who did?” Castiel asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Lucifer. I ran into him in the hall.” 

“You ran into that ass?” Dean asked. 

“Dean, please,” Castiel said quietly. Dean went silent. 

“He was on his way to check on you, but I caught him in a conversation. He was very worried. He wanted to be certain you were okay.” 

“I’m fine,” Castiel said. 

“Yeah, but you might not have been,” Dean said. 

“Then it would have been fair,” Castiel said. “I have paralyzed and even killed men before, Dean. You know this.” 

“They were accidents,” Dean insisted. Castiel hadn’t always fought in Crowley’s House, and before he was fighter he had been a soldier. Crowley’s House was much more regulated and much safer, so it was legal, which meant that nobles could come without fear of arrest, which might be a detriment to their political careers. 

“But they happened,” Castiel said. “Dean, you don’t need to be so angry with him. He did his job, and he came to check on me.” 

“No, he didn’t. I don’t see him here.” Dean said. 

“Because he’s with Crowley right now,” Sam said. 

“Why?” Dean asked, looking suspicious. 

“Because I sent him there,” Sam answered. 

“Why?” Dean asked, his voice sounding much colder. 

“I told him I wanted to hire him,” Sam said. His voice sounded small to him. Sam was much taller than Dean, and maybe even stronger. But Sam always felt small when Dean was upset with him. 

“You decided it would be a good idea to hire, as your guard, the man who tried to kill Castiel?” 

“Dean!” Sam snapped. 

“Dean, that’s hardly fair. He did not try to kill me,” Castiel said. “It wouldn’t be so dangerous if I wasn’t as good as I was. He had to get me on the ground in some way if he wanted to win.” 

“Then he didn’t have to want to win so much,” Dean said. 

“Did you hear what you just said?” Sam asked. 

“I heard it,” Dean said. “I just don’t like it. And I don’t like him.” He turned, focusing completely on Sam. “Did you really have to hire him?” 

“I did,” Sam said. 

“You did fine with just Cas,” Dean pointed out. 

“Not really,” Sam said. “Castiel’s always going to pick to protect you over me. It’s his job. Grandfather has been asking me when I would take after your example for a while. And he’s threatened to send me a Secret Service agent. Dean, Lucifer knows about you and Castiel, or he figured it out.” 

“How?” Castiel asked. Sam could almost hear the panic in Castiel’s voice. If it got out, or seemed like it would, then Castiel would have to leave them. 

“He gave me a good lie for why Dean’s so upset. He was helping me, he was helping us, don’t you see?” Sam asked. “It’s something I need help with.” 

“It’s not just to get into his pants?” 

“Dean!” Sam hissed. “Please, can you not?” 

“Okay, fine,” Dean said. “But you’ve got to be careful, Sam. It’s one thing to have a crush on someone from afar. It’s a whole other to have one up close.” 

“It worked for you,” Sam said. 

“And I took a huge risk with my life and the life of my family. It was stupid, Sam. You don’t have as many people’s lives riding on it. But that doesn’t mean your life isn’t worth a whole lot. I don’t want you to have to go move to Paris or something if this comes out.” 

“It won’t. Dean, he’ll never know.” 

“I doubt that, Sam,” Castiel said. “It’s hard to keep a secret forever.” 

“I’m not going to tell him I’m not hiring him after I already told him I would.” 

“I’m not saying that, Sam,” Castiel said. “I’m asking you to be very careful. This could end badly, and you know it.” 

“I do,” Sam said. He knew how badly it could work out. Sam had no indication that Lucifer was anything but interested in females. If he figured out Sam’s interest, Lucifer might be disgusted and try to leave. Or he might feel like Sam hired him for those extra duties. The worst part about the former notion was that Sam wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t accept Lucifer even if he knew that was what was going through the man’s head. And that frightened Sam most of all. 

“You can still say no,” Dean said. 

“No,” Castiel said. “If he agreed to hire him now, it would be wrong to fire him before the paper work was even sorted out.” 

“I told him there would be a one month’s probation,” Sam said. “It will give me time. If I don’t think I can handle it, then I’ll let him go.” 

Dean did not look reassured. He remained stonily silent for a moment, looking between Castiel and Sam. Then he finally nodded. “Alright, I won’t fuss then.” 

“Thank you,” Sam said with a grateful smile. “And now I have to go deal with Crowley and his contracts, if you’ll excuse me.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Fergus, I did it,” Lucifer exclaimed the second he got into Crowley’s office and had shut the door. Even when he had money he wouldn’t call Crowley by his real name unless it was just the two of them. Lucifer respected the need for a man to make a new person of himself. 

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” Crowley said in annoyance. He was available for business and was filling out paper work. 

“I can’t even care right now, my friend,” Lucifer said with a smirk. That made Crowley look up. 

“Dear lord, what have you done now?” 

“Prince Winchester just hired me. Prince Sam Winchester just hired me as his body man. And he’ll be here to fill out the paperwork in a few moments.” 

“You’re not just pulling my leg,” Crowley said, looking suspicious. 

“I can hardly believe it myself,” Lucifer said. He dropped into one of the nice chairs in front of Crowley’s desk. “Your plan worked like a charm.” 

“Don’t ask me for any more favors. You nearly killed my best attraction.” 

“Castiel is fine,” Lucifer said. 

“And he nearly wasn’t. That last move was risky. I have a hard enough time protecting myself from litigation when a guy gets hurt in my establishment and suddenly can’t move his own body, let alone covering the fighter who caused the injury. If it had gone another way, Prince Winchester wouldn’t even look at you again.” 

“But it worked out,” Lucifer pointed out. 

“And I’m telling you not to make any more risky mistakes.” 

“Don’t need to,” Lucifer said. He knew he was looking like the cat that ate the canary. “The Prince told me he always bets on me. He finds me interesting.” 

“Well on your way, then,” Crowley said. He got up and went to get the forms. Crowley dealt with the hiring of his employees for positions as nobles’ body men, or setting up patronage contracts if a fighter and noble felt it would be long term. While Crowley was known for being very much a Scrooge and pinching every penny he could, his reputation with making very precise business deals that benefited both parties made him quite sought after. Fighters and nobles wanted him to work on their contracts. 

“Yes, well on my way,” Lucifer responded. He wasn’t exactly listening. His thoughts were back on Sam. 

Sam Winchester was about 18 years Lucifer’s junior, but Sam had the kind of form that Lucifer found attractive in a man if he were looking for a partner. The shyness he saw in Sam was nice as well. Lucifer could tell that Sam hadn’t believed he was flirting. Sam also had an earnestness to him that surprised Lucifer. He hadn’t planned for Sam to take him so seriously when Lucifer joked about being humiliated. But Sam had understood that he had been serious. That made Lucifer uncomfortable. He didn’t need to be caught in a lie when he barely had his feet in the door and Prince Winchester hadn’t even signed anything. 

The prince’s predatory smile also set Lucifer on edge. Because of his training, Lucifer was the more powerful of the two, physically anyway. But Lucifer suspected that Sam might take the excuse and train up again with Lucifer. Sam was still young. He was healthy and trim even without constant training. He was taller, though Lucifer had a thicker form. Still, Lucifer worried that if he trained Sam then Sam might have the ability to pin Lucifer down. That thought brought up all kinds of unpleasant memories he’d spent the past few years trying to forget. He had to force those thoughts down. They wouldn’t help, and Prince Winchester didn’t seem the type who would hold anyone down. 

“This is the standard contract,” Crowley said, sliding the papers under Lucifer’s nose, forcing him back into reality. “Do you have any idea yet of what your duties will be?” 

“The Prince mentioned being with him for different events. I assumed it won’t take much more than a standard.” 

“Well, we’ll see when your boy arrives. Did he say anything unusual?” 

Lucifer picked up the contracts and started to look at them. Of course there was no point reading them, yet because they hadn’t yet written in all of the particulars. Lucifer knew, though, to read the whole contract. 

“He told me that if this worked out in a month from now he might have me move into one of the Winchester houses.” 

“You’ll be kept like a pet then?” Crowley asked with a smirk. 

“Is this abnormal?” Lucifer asked, ignoring Crowley’s comment. 

“It’s not unabnormal,” Crowley said. “Some men like to keep their possessions close by. Others like to keep their weapons close so they won’t lose their possessions. I don’t think for a second that your cousin lives with the Winchesters because they really need all that protection. I don’t even think but that the baby brother needs you as much of an actual guard. I feel like they’re more the dragon hoarding gold type.” 

“So I’m the pretty pennies now?” Lucifer asked with a scowl. 

“Better to be a pretty penny in a pocket than an ugly one on the streets,” Crowley reminded him. Lucifer understood. He understood where this could take him. He’d accepted that a long time ago. 

There was a solid knock on the door. Lucifer didn’t turn away from the contracts, which he decided to pick up and start reading. He couldn’t be certain if Prince Winchester would be a patient man or not. 

“Come on,” Crowley called. 

“Crowley,” Lucifer heard Sam say from behind him. Lucifer had to smile a little. It turned out that Sam was a man of his word. 

“Ah, Prince, you showed up. Just in time too, we need to sort out the particulars of the contracts,” Crowley said with a smirk. “DORIS!” He shouted. A mousy little woman came in, glaring as she stepped into the room. 

“Yes, sir,” she said, the sir holding naked disdain. She was small, probably around Sam’s age, and looked at Crowley through her thick glasses which made her eyes seem huge. 

“We need a witness and someone to take notes,” he said. 

“Just a minute,” Doris said. She went into her little office and wheeled in a small table with a type writer. “Are we using a standard contract with riders for specifications or do I need to create a preliminary contract for everyone to sign today and then write up a contract with the proper language for everyone to sign as the final contract?” 

“I don’t know. Highness, what do you have in mind?” 

“Well, I’ll get to specifics, but I need something like Castiel’s contract, though with a one month probationary trial,” Sam said. 

“You’re looking for the live in situation?” Crowley asked. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. 

“Well, Castiel did not have a standard form,” Crowley said. 

“I can pull out his form,” Doris said.

“Go,” Crowley said. Doris stood and scurried to a filing cabinet. With deft hands she sorted through the cabinet like she knew exactly where the form was. It was possible given Castiel’s value that Crowley had asked her for his file often enough that she did know. 

“Here you are, sir,” She said. “Though may I remind you that it’s unethical to review the contract of another previous hire with other people.” 

“Prince Winchester was one of the witnesses to the contract last time. He already knows the details, and since Lucifer will be under very similar terms and living in the same household, it doesn’t matter.” 

“It is still questionable,” the woman said. 

“So is your employment,” Crowley said. He handed her a copy of the forms. “Go, sit down and start with the notes.” 

Doris glared at Crowley again, but accepted the forms and went to her seat. She glanced over the contract, again like she knew it well enough. She began to clack loudly on the typewriter. 

“Now,” Crowley said once he seemed sure that Doris was doing her job. “What exactly are you thinking for work terms?” 

“You didn’t give up so easily with Castiel,” Sam said. Lucifer nearly jumped. Sam had sat down in the chair next to him and Lucifer hadn’t even noticed, too busy being amused by Crowley’s secretary.

“Castiel was a much, much hotter commodity then my boy here,” Crowley said. “And this will make a good story for my fighters, one of the older ones got hired by a prince. It’s good sales.” 

“So, are you saying I don’t have to pay you for this?” Sam asked. 

“Severance fees still apply. Though if you weren’t willing to pay you shouldn’t have said you’d do so.” 

“I was making a joke,” Sam said flatly. 

“Still, we need to know what Lucifer’s job will entail,” Crowley said. 

“I need a guard who isn’t Castiel. He’s very good at his job, but his job is Dean and by extension Lisa and sometimes Ben. I’m one too many persons for this mix. I need someone who can go with me to both public and private functions, to my job, or on errands. And when at functions I also need someone who can help keep away some of the mothers.” 

“Quite a hardship you’ve got there,” Crowley said with a bit of sarcasm and a smile. 

“It would be fine if I didn’t also get them when I’m out for a walk,” Sam said.

“What are the hours?” Crowley asked. 

“The first month will be harder, because of Lucifer not actually living in the same household, but I go to work at seven every morning. I need you there,” Sam turned to look at Lucifer and not Crowley. Lucifer met his eyes. “No later than 6:30 every morning. I work at the Campbell Law firm a half hour from home, which I often walk. I’m off work at four, though I generally stay until five or later. I need an escort home. For other regular meetings I attend a Wednesday evening dinner at the church with Dean, Lisa and Ben. On Thursdays I have lunch with a friend. Tuesdays is dinner at the Men of Letters,” he said. 

That made Lucifer’s eyebrows rise. The Men of Letters were a well known organization, like the Free Masons, but even more exclusive. They included all members of families, male or female, from certain lines. Even the Shurley’s couldn’t be a part of the Men of Letters. 

“Of course, I can’t allow you inside passed the coat room, but it’s safe there. I’ll be there for two hours from six to eight, and then I head home. On Saturdays I go to the Men of Letters for three or four hours. I leave at eight and need you there at 7:30. After that I go to one of the Fight Houses, which I also attend sometimes Thursday afternoon or evening after lunch. I work Monday through Wednesday and a half day on Thursday. Friday is normally the day I stay home and attend to personal business, though I also normally spend the afternoon out. Friday evening normally has some event I need to attend. If I don’t have a ball or something I need to dress up for I end up sitting with judges, other nobles, friends, at the race tracks, but something more political. Sunday is church and time with my family. Doris, are you getting all of this so far?” 

“I’m good, Highness,” the woman said from her chair. He fingers were still flying over the keys, the clacks filling the air like some kind of music. 

“I don’t need you for Sundays at all, but I expect you at my house at 6:30 every morning except for Saturday, when I need you at 7:30, and Friday when you need to be there by 8:30, unless I tell you otherwise. You can also leave me probably around 7:30 in the evening, most days. We’ll feed you, so no worries about that. If I have an event I need you to stay later for those times, but I’ll normally know a week in advance. And there will always be at least one later event a week. Is this acceptable?” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said. And even if it wasn’t, Lucifer would never say. He knew how scheduling usually worked. One day a week to himself was a lucky break. 

“Of course, you’ll be compensated,” Sam said. “Three thousand dollars as a yearly salary[2] , at least for the first year. If this works out well I will raise that figure.” 

“That is more than generous for a man of my age,” Lucifer said. It was really. It was well more than he was making now, and if he didn’t spend all of his money on clothes and food then he’d be able to stash some away for later. 

“It’s a little low,” Sam said, but he was frowning. “Where do you live?” 

“On the juncture of Morrow and Hubbard Street,” Lucifer said. 

“That’s a good part of town,” Sam said, frown deepening. “As I recall, even with his winnings, Castiel could only afford Thomas Lane.” 

“Castiel also had debts,” Lucifer said. He tried to not frown when he thought of that. Castiel’s incredible debts revolved around their cousin Balthazar, and that had been a tricky family subject even before Lucifer had been thrown out of the family himself. “I had a small inheritance which I’m using to supplement my pay here so I can afford it.” 

“Oh,” Sam said. “How did you know about Castiel’s debts?” 

“I find it good to know this,” Lucifer said. Though any man in the house who didn’t know about Castiel’s debts had to have been hired months after Castiel left.

“Do you often talk about what you know?” 

“Only when necessary,” Lucifer said. “And only when I know the person I’m speaking to already knows what I’m speaking of.” There wasn’t a person in that room that wouldn’t already know about the debts Dean had to pay in order to buy Castiel. 

Sam seemed to relax a little at that. “Alright. I’ll include cab fare in your wages so you can get to the house easier. So another 30 dollars in your salary. Fair?” 

“More than fair, Highness,” Lucifer said. 

“Is there anything you need to know about?” Sam asked. 

“Attire,” Lucifer said instantly. 

“Yes, you’ll need suits during the week. I will provide tuxedos, should such an occasion arise. Anything else?” 

“Not that I can think of, off the top of my head,” Lucifer said. 

“Then I’ll interject, the same health clauses apply, I take it,” Crowley asked. 

“Everything should be mostly the same,” Sam said. “Unless Lucifer has something he wants to add.” 

“No,” Lucifer said. 

“Alright then, Doris, get everything together,” Crowley said. 

“Right away, sir,” Doris said. The clacking got much more rapid in the background. 

“Your assistant seems lovely,” Sam said. 

“She’s well enough. She’d be on the streets if she didn’t work here, or at the docks. The least she could do is be a bit sunnier about it.” 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer said, mostly out of habit. “I think you holding that over my head would make me just as sunny as Doris.” 

Lucifer glanced at Sam who burst into laughter. Lucifer didn’t actually think it was that funny, but he was glad Sam laughed. It seemed that Sam liked more of his real personality. That was good, it would make seducing Sam Winchester easier when the time came. 

“In any case, this will take a bit. I’ll send Doris with the contracts once they’re finished and you can sign them,” Crowley said. “By the time she has the copy done for you, I’m certain Castiel will be ready to go.” 

“Is that your way of throwing us out of your office?” Sam asked. 

“Exactly,” Crowley said. “I do have work to do. Also, the severance fee is 200 dollars, which you need to pay now.” 

“I have about a hundred,” Sam said. “But I can authorize a check for the rest, if you’re agreeable.” 

“Deal,” Crowley said. 

Sam pulled out the envelope with his winnings, extracting 100$ before withdrawing his checkbook. Lucifer watched Sam write the check. He stood to be able to reach Crowley’s desk, but had to practically bend in half because of his height. Lucifer eyed Sam’s form. All in all, for someone he had to seduce, he could have picked a much worse partner.

Sam handed Crowley the check and turned to look at Lucifer. “Come on, you wanted to see Castiel, yes?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said, standing up. Sam walked out, Lucifer on his heels. Sam slowed a bit so they were walking side by side. 

“You know, it’s nice for once not to have to worry about walking too fast,” Sam said. 

Lucifer chuckled. “I understand.” 

“Poor Castiel. He’s not quite as short as Lisa or Missouri, but in a few years Ben will definitely be taller.” 

“Missouri?” Lucifer asked. 

“Our cook. She’s, um, well, she’s psychic.” 

“Like the palm readers?” Lucifer asked, wondering exactly how gullible the Winchester brothers were. Maybe he’d picked an easier mark than he thought he had. 

“No, actually psychic. I’m trying to warn you because she can tell things about people, secrets, intentions, stuff like that. And she’s very opinionated.” 

“Most nobles wouldn’t keep around a woman like that,” Lucifer said, and he wasn’t certain if his tone was appropriate. He didn’t know if it was accepting or not. 

“Yes, well, she’s been good to our family. She helped raise me and Dean, and she helped with Ben when he was little. Plus, Lisa and our mother are both similar. So if you aren’t used to that type of woman you need to get used to it fast.” 

“Understood,” Lucifer said. He could hear the sounds from the ring. The halls were no more or less crowded than before. People still bustled around getting everything together, keeping everything together. 

“On more thing,” Sam said. “Dean’s very protective of people in his life, not just me or Lisa or Ben, but Missouri and Castiel, our parents, Grandfather.” Lucifer understood what Sam was trying to say. First, keep his mouth shut about the family. Second, Dean was probably pissed off about Castiel’s injury, so Lucifer needed to be prepared. 

Sam turned into the Medic’s and Lucifer slowed to walk a bit behind him. Sam took them to a private room. He knocked and waited for a moment before entering and Lucifer waited another moment before following. Lucifer shut the door. 

“Did you have to bring him with you?” was the first thing Lucifer heard. He couldn’t help the cold look he knew settled on his face. Dean Winchester’s tone reminded him too much of Michael. 

“Dean,” Castiel said. He was propped up against the back of the bed with a few pillows but was mostly lying down. 

“How are you feeling?” Lucifer asked, moving around Sam to go stand next to Castiel. 

Castiel looked too small lying down like that. Lucifer had never been close to Castiel, but he’d at least met him a few times. Castiel knew him too. Lucifer hadn’t been very visible in society much, thankfully or none of his current plans would work. But Castiel knew Lucifer. They hadn’t had too much contact in the House, but much more than they’d had before Lucifer’ fall from grace. 

“I’m fine,” Castiel said. 

“Is there pain anywhere that there shouldn’t be?” Lucifer asked. 

“Bruised collar bone and ribs from the first fight, and bruises. My diaphragm is sore from our fight.” 

“But that’s fair given how many others you’ve hit in the same place,” Lucifer pointed out. Castiel smiled a little. 

“This is true,” Castiel said. Lucifer glanced over at Dean Winchester who looked furious, but said nothing. Lucifer imagined that Dean would do anything for Castiel. That made Lucifer happy. Castiel had the family name, but he was illegitimate. No matter what, Lucifer wished his family would have good lives. They deserved it from their names alone. 

“But no pain where it shouldn’t be?” Lucifer pressed. 

“My head is only sore where it hit the railing. I am fine. The doctor thinks as long as I rest that it will be okay,” Castiel said. 

“Good,” Lucifer said. He felt tension drop from his shoulders. Castiel was completely fine. Lucifer was glad. 

“So, you are coming to work in the Winchester house?” Castiel asked. 

“Crowley’s going to send down the paperwork once it’s finished,” Sam said. 

“That didn’t take long,” Dean said. 

“Some of us aren’t as much of a commodity as others,” Lucifer said, looking at Castiel.

“Aren’t you supposed to be silent until spoken to?” Dean asked. 

“Officially, that would be appropriate,” Castiel said. He sounded a bit bothered. Lucifer imagined that Castiel never spoke until someone addressed him directly at first. 

“I’m afraid I have trouble keeping my tongue to myself,” Lucifer said with a smile. “You understand, don’t you?” 

Dean opened and closed his mouth once and then twice. Then he just shut it. Lucifer smiled pleasantly and looked back at Castiel. Castiel was giving him a disapproving look.

“You’re going to be a pain in the ass to keep around, aren’t you?” Dean asked. 

Lucifer laughed despite himself. It was dangerous to anger a noble, one who might ask questions and find out who he really is. It was also dangerous to anger the brother of the man you were trying to seduce, though a glance at Sam told Lucifer how much Sam enjoyed Lucifer’s personality; he was having trouble containing a smile. 

“Not by design, I assure you,” Lucifer said.

“So, Lucifer?” Dean said. “Terrible stage name.” 

“It’s not,” Lucifer said. 

“Oh come on, who names their child Lucifer?” Dean asked. 

“My father,” Lucifer said flatly. Most men knew to stop asking questions after that. 

“Damn, he must have really hated you,” Dean said. 

“That is debatable,” Lucifer said, trying to sound off handed. 

“Dean, why don’t we see if we can find the doctor?” Sam suggested. 

“Sam,” Dean said. Lucifer wondered if the family communicated mostly through only saying each others’ names. Sam and Dean seemed to have a completely silent argument before Dean stood up and followed Sam out. 

Lucifer walked around the bed and took Dean’s seat. The chairs in the Medic’s wing weren’t nearly as comfortable as the ones Crowley kept in his office. 

“I’m surprised Prince Winchester left me alone with you. I was certain he’d accuse me of attempted murder,” Lucifer said. 

“He was going to,” Castiel said. He leaned back more against the pillows. Lucifer noted there were way more on the bed than there should have been. 

“How many people did he steal from to get you that many pillows?” Lucifer asked. 

“It’s better if I don’t ask, especially if I don’t want to know,” Castiel said. “Sam said you know?” 

“It’s not that you’re both any more obvious than you should be,” Lucifer said. “But you looked happier than I ever remembered you looking. And you looked happiest when you looked at him.” 

“So I should school my features more?” Castiel asked. 

“Don’t worry. I doubt even the rest of the family would notice,” Lucifer said. 

“Balthazar would,” Castiel pointed out. He went silent and looked away. Lucifer had a moment where he wanted to just grip Castiel’s shoulders and try some kind of physical comfort that would probably turn out to be very awkward. He settled for distracting words instead.

“He also has probably attempted every sexual position ever in existence with every person he has ever been able to find,” Lucifer said. 

“Lucifer, please,” Castiel said, though it sounded too much like a plea. He at least looked at Lucifer and not past Lucifer into a memory.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Lucifer said. “Does Mrs. Winchester know?” 

“You mean Lisa?” Castiel asked. 

Lucifer’s face split into a grin. “You’re kidding me, both of them?” he asked. Castiel’s tone tipped him off. The blush that spread across Castiel’s face proved it. 

“They’re a lovely couple,” Castiel said, hanging his head. 

“So, do they pay you for this service, or is it on the side?” Lucifer asked. 

Castiel’s glare was biting. “Do you have to be like this?” He asked. “Dean and Lisa have never asked me to do anything I didn’t want to do. They include me and take care of me. And I love them both dearly. I would do anything for them.” 

“If it comes out you’re going to say you seduced and black mailed them, aren’t you?” Lucifer asked. It felt painful to him to ask. 

“I would do anything for them,” Castiel repeated. Lucifer reached out and took his hand, unable to overcome the need to provide physical comfort.

“Do they know this?” Lucifer asked seriously, looking Castiel in the eyes.

“Why are you being so kind to me now?” Castiel asked. 

A small smile tugged at Lucifer’s lips. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s had your eye on a Winchester.” 

“Lucifer, you can’t,” Castiel said quickly. 

Lucifer frowned. “Why not? You do.” 

“It’s different, Dean is already married. Sam doesn’t have a cover and people already ask questions,” Castiel said. 

“Maybe it won’t be forever,” Lucifer said. He didn’t need it to be, but he let his tone sound desperate and too hopeful. 

“Lucifer, no,” Castiel said. 

“Why?” Lucifer asked. 

“It’s not my place to say, nor is it your place to ask,” Castiel said in a definitive tone.

“What if he were to get married?” Lucifer asked. 

“He’s not going to,” Castiel said. 

“Does he enjoy the company of men that much?” Lucifer asked. 

“Not that I am aware of. He has only had female partners before that I am aware of,” Castiel said. Now that was discouraging. There was no way Sam Winchester was only interested in women, not with the way he looked at Lucifer, not with the way he blushed when Lucifer flirted. Unless Lucifer had read it all wrong? 

“Does he not like men at all?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t have to fake the desperation this time. 

Castiel looked temped. “He does,” Castiel finally said. 

“Then why can’t I hope?” Lucifer asked. 

“It will not turn out well,” Castiel said. 

“Then let me hope. It’s one of the few things I have,” Lucifer said. 

“You have a nice apartment and no debt and a good job with a family that provides loyalty as great and greater than it receives,” Castiel said. “Tell me this isn’t about Michael.” 

“I’d prefer if we don’t speak of him,” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. “I’d also prefer if you don’t tell them we’re related in anyway, or if you do, say it’s on your mother’s side.” 

“You are related to me on my mother’s side,” Castiel said. 

“But do they know she’s where you got our name?” Lucifer asked. 

“No, I do not want to burden Dean with that,” Castiel said, shifting is gaze away from Lucifer’s.

“Then please. I cannot be any closer to my old life than I am now. Nor do I much want to, not after what happened. I don’t want them to know. So please?” he asked. 

“I won’t tell them,” Castiel said. He didn’t even wait long to speak. Castiel was also good with loyalty. It was why he’d done well in the military. 

“Thank you,” Lucifer said. He relaxed a little. “What is it like working for them? Sex aside.” 

Castiel blushed but he didn’t have to answer before Sam and Dean came in with the doctor. Lucifer stood and moved away from the bed to the far side of the room. Dean hovered near the doctor, but Sam stood near Lucifer. Lucifer glanced at Sam, but Sam didn’t notice. He was focused on the doctor and Castiel. 

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked. 

“Sore, but no more sore than is to be expected,” Castiel said. 

“We can send you home with some morphine,” the doctor said. “How does your head feel?” 

“Fine,” Castiel said. “My neck aches, but again, to be expected.” 

“Sit up for me,” he said. Castiel sat up on his own, looking Dean in the eyes as he did so, probably to keep Dean from trying to help. “How is it?” 

“Okay so far,” Castiel said. 

“Try standing,” the doctor said. Castiel did and Dean did have to grab him to keep him up. Castiel did seem to find some balance, though. “Hmm, well, not the best, but I think you’ll be fine to go home. I suggest bed rest for at least a day and taking it easy for a day or two after that. Also, take a cab home.” 

“I can get one,” Sam said. He turned to leave and Lucifer followed him out. Sam glanced back at him and smiled. “You didn’t have to follow.” 

“It’s my job,” Lucifer said. 

“Not yet, it isn’t,” Sam said. “And you still wouldn’t start until tomorrow. Which reminds me, do you even know where I live?” 

“Would it disturb you if I told you yes?” Lucifer asked. 

“No,” Sam said. About everyone in town knew where the Winchesters lived. It was hardly a national secret.

“The pay is more than generous,” Lucifer said, humming a bit as they walked.

“How did you know?” Sam asked with a nervous smile. Lucifer wasn’t really certain what Sam was asking. Of course Sam had to be discrete, but he’d passed from discrete into vague. Lucifer decided to play a hunch.

“I watch you more than I should,” Lucifer admitted. He did it to watch Sam’s face turn the color of a tomato. He was not disappointed. “Am I being inappropriate, Highness?” he asked, his face all too innocent. 

“You did that on purpose,” Sam hissed. 

“Guilty,” Lucifer said.

Sam smiled and shook his head. He looked so pleased, though. Lucifer imagined Sam was thinking he’d made a good purchase. Lucifer couldn’t be certain, of course, but Sam seemed like he would be the type to buy on impulse and have to soothe himself along the way home. 

“I never imagined you’d be so amusing,” Sam said. 

“Do you think of me often?” Lucifer asked. He smirked broadly. 

“I set myself up for that one,” Sam said, bowing his head a bit and becoming even more red. 

“You would not like me so much if I couldn’t best you occasionally,” Lucifer said. 

“Are you so certain?” Sam asked. “What if I just feel bad for you?” 

“You smile when I offer up sass to someone, especially you. And it hardly matters if you hired me from pity. You still hired me. For that I am grateful,” Lucifer said.

“Are you always so honest?” Sam asked. 

“Almost never, though I will endeavor never to even feel that I have a need to lie to you,” Lucifer said. “Though, I cannot promise that I will tell you everything.” 

“That’s only fair,” Sam said. “And I’ll endeavor for the same.” 

They walked for a moment in companionable silence. Lucifer directed Sam through the back halls that the fighters and other House workers used. It allowed them to avoid the main floor, though Lucifer also directed them the long way. Lucifer liked that way because it was generally less populated and he knew it better because he walked it more often. If Sam noticed it was taking them a while he didn’t say anything. 

“I didn’t think this would be so easy,” Lucifer said. 

“What is?” Sam asked. He looked about as hesitant as Lucifer felt. He felt more than a little uncomfortable with this admittance. 

“Being hired. I thought whoever asked for my contract would be harder. I thought I’d have to hold my tongue from the instant I met them. I know nobles don’t believe the common men should have thoughts in their heads.” The words were bitter because he’d said such things himself. He felt guilt and shame for his own stupidity. 

“Then why did you talk to me as you did?” Sam asked. 

“Not much hope,” Lucifer said. Too much, in reality. And there was his first lie to Sam, at least his first after he promised to be honest. He used to be a man of his word, but then he used to have titles. 

“Turns out, just enough,” Sam said with an overly kind smile. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. He sounded distant even to himself. They exited the building. The sun was high and uncomfortable. The weather was humid. Summers in the South were discouraging even on the good days. 

Lucifer stood back while Sam hailed a cab. Sam paid the man half, promising the fee for three people to the Winchester house, plus a very large tip for waiting out by the Medics wing. Lucifer had to be the one to direct the driver to exactly where they’d come out. 

“See, good buy already,” Sam said once they headed back in. Lucifer snorted. Yes, Sam was very much an impulse buyer. 

“It’s still a bit soon to be making those kinds of jokes in this part of the world,” Lucifer said.

“Oh yeah,” Sam said. He blushed this time, but from shame. “Are you old enough to remember the war?” 

“Are you?” Lucifer teased, giving himself a moment to run dates in his head. 

“I was born seven days before the war ended,” Sam said. 

“Quite a history you have there,” Lucifer said. 

“And what about you?” Sam asked. 

“I was eighteen when the war ended,” Lucifer said. “I was in the army, though only for about a year at that point. My elder brother had insisted I stay out of it, so I ran away to a completely different state to enlist.” He couldn’t help the smirk that settled on his mouth. He had never been so openly defiant of Michael or their father until that point. But Lucifer wanted to fight and so he went. 

“You mind if I ask what side?” 

“Will you fire me if I tell you I was a Confederate?” Lucifer asked. 

“No,” Sam said. “It suits you. Why did you, though?” 

“My family was from Virginia. Not the West Virginia part either. It was my home; people I cared about were dying. They needed men. They needed anyone who had a decent pair of pants and hands. Hang the rest,” Lucifer said. 

“Missouri wouldn’t be happy to hear you say that,” Sam said. 

“Was she part of the practice?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam said. 

“I will apologize to her, then,” Lucifer said. 

“Will you mean it?” Sam asked. There was something hard in his voice. Dean Winchester wasn’t the only one protective of the people he cared for. 

“For her, I will. It’s not that I had an opinion on the practice, you see. I didn’t care one way or the other. But I never thought it intelligent to be intentionally rude to a person’s face. Nor would a negro be more or less stupid than any common man, or noble man,” Lucifer said. 

“You better be careful,” Sam said, dropping his voice a bit. “Talk like that can get you killed.” 

“There’s a lot of things I think and a lot of things I like that can get me killed,” Lucifer said. “I’m telling you because you asked and because I told you I’d be honest with you. This isn’t something I exactly advertise.” 

“No, I can’t imagine it is,” Sam said. 

“If Missouri doesn’t like me, will I be fired instantly?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam was silent for a moment. When he began to speak his tone was delicate. “It might not be instantly, but Missouri is very important. She’s like our aunt, but she can tell things about people as well. I trust her judgment above almost anyone else’s.” 

“Can she see if I have a wicked soul?” Lucifer asked. He tried to make it sound like a joke and he thought he succeeded. 

“I don’t know, maybe. I wouldn’t put it past her,” Sam said. “But I wouldn’t worry. She’ll probably like you. She loved Castiel, after all.” 

“I’m not certain if you noticed, but Castiel and I are different people,” Lucifer said. He heard Sam chuckle, but his thoughts were far away. 

Whatever Lucifer felt about an entire race came short of the fact that his younger brother Raphael was brilliant and a completely qualified physician. It didn’t change the fact that Raphael got all kinds of hell for being a negro. It didn’t change that Raphael had worked as a medic in the field when Lucifer was still too scared to run away and join the army. Lucifer planned to be respectful of Missouri because she was important to Sam. But if she was even a quarters as deserving of the praise Raphael deserved, then Lucifer would be as respectful as he could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [2] Standard modern pay rate, converted for inflation to what it would have been 1892 when this story is set.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early posting due to needing to be up really early tomorrow. enjoy.

Castiel wasn’t happy about being bundled up and taken to the cab. He was even less happy because Dean had been grumbling since Doris came with the papers for Sam and Lucifer to sign and waited in the room with them. It had only taken a moment for Sam and Lucifer to sign without a second thought. Dean had been unusually surly ever since. 

Castiel wasn’t completely certain if Dean hated Lucifer more because of Sam’s very obvious lust for the man, or because of the injury Castiel could have sustained because of Lucifer’s violence. It didn’t seem to matter much either way. The fact that Lucifer seemed to take enjoyment from needling Dean did not help. 

But Castiel wasn’t worried about Dean’s hatred of Lucifer. He was more worried about Lucifer and his feelings toward Sam. Lucifer had never been in the public eye as much as Michael or Raphael, or even maybe Gabriel. But Lucifer’s face wasn’t unknown, especially in Virginia. As much as Lucifer wanted to keep his identity to himself, Castiel doubted that would last for too long. It was one thing for Sam to have a dalliance with a lower class male, which could easily be played off as a curiosity. It was a different matter for Sam to have a dalliance with a man of equal status who had been disowned by his family and stripped of his titles. 

He did not want to tell. Castiel had promised Lucifer that he would keep Lucifer’s secret for at least as long as he was able. And Lucifer did seem genuinely interested in Sam. Though that was the problem, because Castiel could hardly remember Lucifer being genuine about anything. 

Castiel hardly knew Lucifer. Though Castiel did share Lucifer’s name, Castiel had never been part of the family. The fact that he didn’t even know who his father was cemented his inability to be accepted by the Shurley family. Castiel had accepted that early in his life. But Lucifer had been the center of the world for a while, at least from the family’s perspective. Castiel doubted his fall had been easy. 

But Castiel had watched Lucifer fight. There was no finesse, no obvious training, no real grace. But there was power and anger behind all of Lucifer’s moves. Castiel had learned to fight from training and from years of practice in and out of the ring, also a certain amount of just ability. Lucifer’s came from explanation, observation, and even personally feeling the pain of some of the moves Lucifer now favored. 

He fought hard, trained hard. Castiel saw dedication in Lucifer. He didn’t begrudge Lucifer the chance he was getting. But Sam was interested in Lucifer and Lucifer had displayed interest in Sam. Really it just made everything very complicated. Castiel couldn’t tell Sam, for fear of how Sam would react. He couldn’t tell Dean at all. Thankfully there were more intelligent and level headed people who lived in the Winchester house. 

“Come on, Cas, let’s get you inside,” Dean said. Castiel didn’t say anything, but allowed himself to be guided in by Dean. Dean’s strong arms gripped tight around Castiel’s waist. Dean’s strength was something Castiel was proud of. He trained Dean so Dean could defend himself if need be. Of course, Dean already had some training from school, but Castiel taught Dean to let go of the strict rules he’d learned in school so that he wouldn’t seriously injure anyone. Castiel’s type of fighting was made to kill men. Dean would never be as good as Castiel, but Castiel was certain that Dean knew what he was doing. 

“You boys are home early,” Missouri said almost as soon as they hit the door. Normally she’d be in the kitchen working. With the worry Dean was pouring out, Castiel didn’t doubt that Missouri had felt them coming all the way down the street. 

“Cas got hurt,” Dean said. “He’s going to bed instantly.” 

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel insisted. 

“Nonsense,” Missouri said. “You got quite a bump on the head and I’m certain the doctor told you to rest.” 

“Alright,” Castiel said. 

“That’s all it takes?” Dean asked, annoyance in his voice. 

“Miss Missouri is just scarier than you, Dean,” Castiel lied. Not that she wasn’t scarier, but there were certain things that Missouri could do that Dean couldn’t and Castiel valued her opinion over Dean’s on some occasions. Missouri couldn’t see everything, but she was one of the strongest psychics Castiel had ever seen. He wouldn’t argue with her, not over this. He didn’t want to believe that Missouri had seen some kind of vision that had him crippled. 

“Alright, then, let’s get you settled in bed,” Missouri said. “Dean, you have paper work that arrived. It’s on your desk. It seems rather urgent.” 

“If it was urgent then why didn’t you send someone to get me?” Dean asked. 

“It wasn’t that urgent, but it’s urgent now,” Missouri said. 

“Dean, don’t argue,” Sam said. “The faster you do it, the faster it’s done.” 

“Fine,” Dean muttered and went to his study. 

Missouri and Sam steadied Castiel enough that he could get up to the shared bedroom. Castiel did have a bedroom of his own, but it was only for show when visitors came. Castiel’s for-show room was kept every bit as tidy as his locker at Crowley’s house was kept. His drawers and closet space in Dean and Lisa’s room were decidedly more messy. 

The Winchester house was pressed between other buildings on a street that had grown up to look very much like London (at least according to Crowley), though with less dirt and soot. Their home was lovely to see on the outside and the walls were more than thick. The whole house was four stories, as well as something like an attic, though it was more for a crawl space for Ben to have adventures in, and a wine cellar that Sam maintained. 

Missouri and Sam helped Castiel sit down. Missouri went to find Castiel’s bed clothes while Sam worked on Castiel’s shoes and Castiel worked on his shirt buttons. Castiel had a hard time keeping his eyes from the top of Sam’s head. Sam was so tall that even on his knees he was still closer to Castiel’s face than Castiel’s knees. 

“Will you make certain that Lisa hears from you or Missouri?” Castiel asked. 

“I’ll be sure of it,” Sam said. He pulled off one shoe and then the other. Castiel slipped out of his shirt. 

“Sam, would you mind making sure that Dean is actually doing his work?” Missouri asked. 

“Of course,” Sam said. Castiel knew Sam would recognize a dismissal when he heard on. He was glad that Sam accepted it without question and just left. 

“What’s on your mind, Castiel? You’re very troubled,” Missouri asked. She sat down next to Castiel on the bed. 

“I am troubled,” Castiel said. “I made a promise to someone that I’m not certain I should keep. And I am not certain who I can ask for advice.” 

“Better me than those boys,” Missouri pointed out. 

“They do have a tendency to react before thinking, sometimes,” Castiel said. 

“So, what is the problem?” Missouri asked. 

“Sam hired a body man today,” Castiel said. 

“The one he’s practically bursting with excitement about?” 

“The one Sam’s very attracted to and has been for some time. His name is Lucifer. I spoke with him today. We are not close, but I have spoken with him more often than Sam has. He seems interested in Sam in a romantic sense,” Castiel explained. 

“You think he’s going to use Sam?” Missouri asked. Castiel didn’t have to look at her to feel her bristling beside him. Missouri would move heaven and earth for her boys. In that sense she wasn’t so different from Mary Winchester. 

“I’m not certain what he’s going to do,” Castiel said. “I told him to leave Sam alone. I didn’t tell him why, but I told him it was a bad idea.” 

“Sam told you that you could tell if you needed to,” Missouri pointed out. She had gentled her voice. 

“I do not feel like it is my story to tell, and I do not want to tell Lucifer anyway. I don’t exactly trust him. But he seemed genuine in his interest in Sam. And I would like Sam to be happy, though it would be harder to hide their relationship,” Castiel said. 

“You have a lot of guilt in your chest, honey. I can’t tell you if you should keep your secret or not, and you know I won’t tell if it’s wrong to say.” 

“Lucifer. He’s my cousin,” Castiel said. 

“And you don’t feel like you should tell this?” Missouri asked. 

“He’s not… he’s a Shurley, like me, but not like me. He was in the inner circle. He had everything. I saw him occasionally, but he was too high up for someone like me to actually interact with,” Castiel explained. Missouri knew more about his secrets than Dean or Lisa or anyone else did. She didn’t judge him for his fears or make him tell. 

“Then why is he fighting in the ring?” Missouri asked. “I’ve not heard of him.”

“Lucifer was always much more private than the others. Michael threw him out. I don’t know what Lucifer did, but Michael, as the head of the house, has the ability to cut Lucifer off completely and he did. Lucifer has been fighting ever since. I’ve always known him to be cold and insincere. But he seems very fond of Sam. I worry because I don’t know what Lucifer will do.” 

“You think he will hurt Sam?” 

“I know he will hurt Sam, even if he has no ulterior motives. He is not less vicious than what I remember of him from when I was a child. His words are not so biting, but he uses less words. I have heard him talk against the nobles’ treatment of the common man since he began working in Crowley’s House. He is different. But I don’t know him well enough to know if it’s good or bad change.” 

“But you don’t want to have him fired just because he was mean to you when you were a boy,” Missouri said. 

“He held me under the water at the lake until Michael saved me. But Lucifer apologized after he did it. And he apologized again a few years ago when I ran into him after he’d started work. Who else would remember that?” 

“The others wouldn’t have.” Castiel knew Missouri was reading him now. But it was easier like this. “You’re worried for him.”

“I can’t help that. He shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t belong in the ring. He belongs in the stands. He’s not stupid. If he’d been interested in Sam when he still had his titles then I wouldn’t have worried. But it’s different now. There are too many things I don’t know.” 

“Well, I’ll meet him when he shows up, and I’ll see what I can figure out,” Missouri said. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said. He bent down, leaning his head on Missouri’s shoulder. She reminded him of his mother most days. She mothered all of them along. 

“Castiel!” He heard. He jumped, seeing Lisa standing in the door. “Dean said you got hurt.” 

“I did, but it’s not so bad,” Castiel said. 

“He said you hit your head and neck and you passed out,” Lisa said, advancing toward him. Castiel wished he could find a way to retreat without looking so obvious. 

Dean had an explosive temper, but it normally came down to yelling, which Castiel could handle, or a punch which Castiel could avoid. Castiel trusted Dean not to hurt him. Lisa was a different story. Castiel didn’t understand her anger. Lisa had a colder, more controlled anger. It reminded him of the destruction caused by an act of God. 

“I did. Lisa, please, Dean was very upset but the doctor sent me home and only told me to rest.” 

“We’re going to call our own physician to have you checked out,” Lisa said. “Missouri, would you mind sending someone to get our doctor?” 

“Of course,” Missouri said with a conspiratorial smile. She walked out, leaving Lisa and Castiel alone. 

“How does your head feel?” Lisa asked, sitting next to Castiel. She gently moved his head, looking at his bruises. 

“A bit sore, but nothing bad,” Castiel said. 

“I don’t want something to happen to you. You’re important to me, and important to Dean. You’re our family Castiel,” she said. 

“Did Sam talk to you again?” Castiel asked. He knew Sam had told on him and his fears about his situation with Lisa and Dean. 

“No, but I’m allowed to love you without him nosing around,” Lisa said. She placed a kiss on his cheek, though it felt more like exasperation than affection. 

“Did Dean tell you why I got hurt?” he asked. 

“The man Sam hired?” Lisa asked. 

“I lose sometimes, Lisa,” Castiel said. “And Lucifer doesn’t have my endurance. He had to end it fast if he wanted to win and he did. It couldn’t have been much more than a minute.” 

“Is he good?” Lisa asked. 

“Not as good as me, and older, but cunning and vicious,” Castiel assessed. 

“Will he protect Sam?” 

“I know he will. For all that I doubt his motivations, I know he will give everything to protect Sam. Lucifer never does anything half-passioned,” Castiel said. Lisa had moved behind him and was examining the bruising on his back. 

“What are his motivations?” Lisa asked. Her fingers poked and prodded at Castiel’s skin. 

“Besides a better job? He told me that he was interested in Sam.” 

“Like how Sam’s interested in him?”

“Yes, exactly,” Castiel said. “And he seemed honest. But I don’t know him to be an honest man, so that worries me.” 

“That, I can understand,” Lisa said. She placed a kiss on Castiel’s neck. Castiel tilted his head so she could kiss all the way up before lightly nipping his ear with her teeth. He really liked that. “Will you tell Sam?” 

“I told Missouri and I’m telling you. Dean will use any excuse to be rid of him, and Sam is a bit blinded by his emotions. I need people I can trust.” 

Lisa laughed warmly and it sent a lovely feeling into Castiel’s stomach. “It’s nice to know that you think the ladies are so trust worthy.” 

“Women are generally less emotional than men, though most men will pretend it’s the opposite. I lived with spies for a while,” Castiel said. 

“You ever going to tell us everything you did before we found you?” 

“Unlikely, though I don’t remember everything, so it would be hard for me to tell you everything.” 

“You’re adorable when you’re being so literal,” Lisa said before sticking her tongue into Castiel’s ear. Castiel jumped, and Lisa laughed, warm and rich. 

“I love it when you laugh,” Castiel said. His whipped out his arm and dragged her close, pulling her into a kiss. 

“Now this is hardly fair!” Dean said from the door way. “I go to deal with some business and you two start without me?” 

“We can’t spend all day in bed, Dean,” Castiel said. “Ben will be home soon, and the doctor is coming.” 

“Yes, but we still have some time,” Lisa said with a smile. Castiel and Lisa watched as Dean toed off his shoes and climbed into bed with them. Castiel let the two of them push him back on the bed and lay down, cocooning him with their presence.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucifer straightened his shirt collar in the mirror by the entrance hall of the Winchester house. One of the maids had allowed him in, though they wouldn’t allow him past the entrance hall until they got confirmation that it was acceptable for him to come further inside. 

“Right this way, Mr. Milton,” the maid said. 

Lucifer offered her a soft smile. It pleased him when she blushed. He had spent the past few years just fighting. He didn’t have much time to flirt with pretty girls or boys. That he could still make a woman’s heart speed up, even as he aged, meant good things for his plans. 

“No one’s up quite yet, except Miss Missouri. She said you can wait in the kitchen with her,” the woman explained. She took him through the living room back to the kitchens. The kitchen was very clean and Lucifer could tell the woman who controlled it probably put a lot of work into her domain. 

“Ah, so you finally arrived,” the woman said. Lucifer had a moment where he thought he high pitched voice would annoy him, only to realize it was actually very pleasant. “Go on,” she said to the maid, sending her out. 

“Do you run the house hold?” Lucifer asked. 

“Aside from Castiel, I’m the only permanent staff member,” she explained. “So I suppose that gives me power in this house hold, but only if you care about hierarchies, which you do.” 

“Prince Winchester said you were psychic. Would you mind if I sit?” he asked, nodding to one of the chairs at the table. 

“Well, at least you mind your manners. Hold on, let me get a look at you,” she said. She turned around to face him. 

Lucifer had dressed in one of his better suits. It was navy blue and the shirt was grey and of an acceptable material. He’d taken his hat off once he entered the house, though he still held it in his hands. Missouri was shorter than him and plump. He could tell the material of her dress was of a good quality and sturdy. Although it was not a high class outfit, given the material, Lucifer could almost guess that her dress might cost more than his whole outfit. It told him just how well the Winchesters paid and how highly they thought of Missouri.

“Castiel’s worried about you,” she said. 

“Worried about me?” Lucifer asked. 

“Worried about what trouble you might cause,” she said. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Lucifer said. “At least, I can’t say so badly, as he’s alright. But I didn’t mean to risk damage like what could have happened.” That, at least, was true. Although he had been willing to be particularly brutal, killing or paralyzing Castiel hadn’t been on his list at all. 

“I believe you,” Missouri said. “Sit,” she ordered. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.” 

“You think I’ll cause trouble?” Lucifer asked. 

“I know you’ll cause trouble. The question is how much and what type,” she said. She went back to cooking. Lucifer’s eyes followed her, assessing for strength. She might not have training, but he could tell that she probably had a lot of upper body strength from lifting water or heavy bags of flour. He also imagined that she could easily kill and skin him. He still had trouble grasping the fact that servants could be the biggest problem for a man trying to talk to a master. He hadn’t expected to have to worry about the Winchesters getting rid of him on someone else’s recommendation. 

The kitchen told Lucifer just how wrong he was. It wasn’t run down or what a kitchen normally looked like: clean, but a place for movement, a place servants worked. While it was still a kitchen and there were no decorations, the counters, stove, and equipment reminded him more of the kitchens of a high class establishment. The expense of such a kitchen told Lucifer of the respect the Winchesters had for this woman. It would be a terrible idea to anger her. 

“There are different types of trouble?” Lucifer asked. 

“There’s the type of trouble that leaves the boys in prison for a night, or the type that gets them in the hospital for a month.” 

“Which type am I?” Lucifer asked. 

“I’m hoping the overnight jail stay. Those boys have always needed an occasional kick in the pants and if you’re the one who can get Sam living on his own like he should be instead of squatting here, then I’ll be more than willing to welcome you into my home.” 

“Ah, I see,” Lucifer said. Not that he really did, but it seemed like the right thing to say. 

“Now, this is hardly fair,” a very feminine voice said from the doorway. A woman came in, dressed very simply, something that would be easier to get in and out of than a dress meant for actually being seen in. “You started the interrogation without me.” 

“This is Princess Lisa Winchester,” Missouri said. 

Lucifer had stood when he heard the woman’s voice, now he bowed. “Highness.” 

“Enough,” Lisa said. She stepped up beside him and sat down in the chair next to him. Lucifer slowly lowered himself back into his seat. 

“Highness,” Lucifer said again. 

“None of that. Mrs. Winchester is fine,” the woman said. “At least for now. So, Castiel tells me you have quite a crush on our sweet Sammy.” 

Lucifer’s face was probably tomato red, but he could definitely feel the heat on his neck. He hadn’t expected the woman to be so forward or for Castiel to tell. “Does Prince Winchester know?” he asked. He needed to know what damage he needed to fix. 

“No,” Lisa said. “I love the boys, but they do tend to act with their guts and not think sometimes. Castiel thinks you are interested in Sam, but he asked me and Missouri to see if he was correct.” 

“And?” Lucifer asked. 

“I don’t know you well enough yet. You are quite a bit older. What is your age exactly?” she asked. 

“44,” Lucifer said. 

“An 18 year age difference, that is quite a lot,” Lisa said. 

“I won’t tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Lucifer said. 

“But you do want him to find out,” Missouri said. “And you want him to say yes.” 

“Who doesn’t want the person they’re interested in to return their feelings?” Lucifer asked. He couldn’t decide if the men in this household were very lucky or out of their minds. 

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to be cute or trying to avoid the question,” Lisa said. She smiled at Lucifer and Lucifer felt very much like he’d was about to walk into one of Gabriel’s traps. Although Gabriel was probably a lot less lethal. 

“Highness?” Lucifer asked. 

“Your job is to protect Sam. That is your only job. This is not just a physical requirement. He may have mentioned that he has a suitor problem,” Lisa said. 

“He may have,” Lucifer said. Although they sounded more like a swarm of locusts than suitors. 

“Your job is to protect him, to run interference against those who would seek to use him. Sam is a catch, not so high up that he’ll win kingship, but in a place of power. There isn’t a more important eligible man in this entire country. He does not need someone who will use him for any reason. He has chosen not to take a partner of any form for a good reason and you will respect his wishes,” Lisa said. 

“I’m sorry, Highness, but are you threatening me?” Lucifer asked. It wasn’t like Michael’s threats, because those involved bruises on his neck and a voice dropped an octave lower and Lucifer’s unending anger. This was a lot colder, but Lisa smiled and her tone was warm and genial. 

“I’m telling you what my boys already know. A man may shoot you with a gun, but a woman will make certain that even in death you’ll always be known as the man who fornicates with goats,” Lisa said all too pleasantly. 

Lucifer opened and closed his mouth realizing exactly what she could do. It wasn’t an idle threat. A woman of her rank could make certain that even Crowley could not hire him again and that no church in the state would even offer aid. They would all be too disgusted of his sins, both real and made up.

“I see your point,” Lucifer said. He had no choice but to see it. “And I’m afraid I must ask if it would be inappropriate to say that I find myself becoming very fond of you. Not how your husband or Castiel is fond of you, but fond none the less.” 

Lisa let out a little laugh and Lucifer smiled, though it felt more like just a stretch of his skin. “You do have fire where it belongs. It’s good, Sam won’t push you around.” 

“I did not think he would,” Lucifer said. 

“He can be very bossy. Do not let his smiles fool you.” 

“He seemed happy when I talked back to him before.” 

“Yes,” Lisa said, her smile becoming much more private. “He does like someone who can best him. But do not have hope. You need to kill it now.” 

“Are you unhappy that I am a man or that I am of a lower standing?” He knew it was a mistake when Lisa met his gaze. 

“No, I am unhappy that a man who seeks to use my brother is sitting at my table. I will not tell, because Sam likes you very much. He is impressed with your skill, but if I or Missouri see that you have even a little bit insinuated yourself toward his bed chamber we will destroy you.” 

“Do not think about lying to us now,” Missouri said. “You look hungry like a lone wolf. We will know if you attempt to seduce him.” 

“But if you do your job and keep your hands to yourself then you may continue in our employment, is this understood?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. He’d always known this would be a long con, but now he knew just how long: long enough for Missouri and Lisa to come to trust him. “I understand perfectly.” 

“Good, you’re here,” Lucifer heard Sam say from the doorway. He was busy with the final buttons on his waistcoat. “Missouri, is breakfast ready, yet?” 

“When am I ever late, Sam Winchester?” she asked with annoyance. 

“Sorry,” Sam said with a smile to match his tone. He kissed the woman’s cheek before going to Lisa and kissing her cheek as well. Lucifer idly wondered if one morning Sam would use the excuse of being half asleep to kiss his cheek too. From the way Sam looked past Lisa to Lucifer, it seemed like Sam was seriously considering it. 

“Good morning to you too, Sam,” Lisa said. 

“Morning,” Sam said, blushing a bit as he turned away from Lucifer. Really? How could they think Lucifer wouldn’t try for such a prize, especially when the prize already wanted him to win?


	6. Chapter 6

Lucifer didn’t expect that particular night to be any different. Sam Winchester wasn’t that interesting. Lucifer had actually lived under the Winchester roof for four months and even he couldn’t see much working against Sam’s squeaky clean image. Sam kept to his routine, easy conversation and occasional awkward smiles when Lucifer found exactly the right words with which to needle Sam. It wasn’t that there wasn’t tension in the house. Dean and Lucifer lobbed snide comments back and forth, but Lucifer felt like that had almost become friendly. Missouri and Lisa watched him no less closely, though. Lucifer just tried to keep his head down when the two of them were around and stick as close to Sam Winchester as he could.

Even though Sam had different functions to attend every week on different days, the schedule did not seem to deviate too much. Lucifer arrived before Sam was ready to go, they ate breakfast and left. Sam would work on weekdays and Lucifer would help him with little errands that didn’t separate them too much. Castiel and Lucifer escorted the family to church for Wednesday night suppers. 

On Fridays Lucifer went with Sam to various places, often to the race tracks or some tea house. These visits were more about political alliances than winning money or getting food. Lucifer knew the Winchesters were brilliant politicians from the fact that Henry Winchester was king and not Lucifer’s own father. But seeing Sam move from person to person, shaking hands or making conversation, told Lucifer just how much the Winchesters did work. 

Sam’s job was law and he dealt with cases where he was needed. Officially he was public defender, though he didn’t keep hours like one would, and he made a lot more money. His firm was really more the place rich politicians sons went to practice looking good. But Sam actually cared, and while he had actual non-common man cases occasionally, Sam’s family background allowed him the freedom to choose his cases. And Sam picked to defend those who could not afford a lawyer on their own. 

Sam would make a good asset for Dean Winchester when he was eventually selected King. Lucifer hadn’t meant to hop onto the Winchester bandwagon, but he had a hard time believing that even his own family could wrestle Kingship away from Dean Winchester, even if the Castiel scandal broke.

And Sam was a member of the Men of Letters. Lucifer both liked and disliked following Sam there. Mostly Lucifer sat in the coat room with other body men and played cards while their masters went about their business. It always intrigued Lucifer, wondering what was beyond the coat room, but he knew he’d never know. It was very rare for a spouse to be allowed in. Lucifer had no chance. 

The most fun of the week were the events Sam attended. Well, fun was a relative term. Often times they were very dull, but their unpredictability left a chance that Lucifer might enjoy himself. Even if he didn’t enjoy himself he might catch Sam watching him while dressed in a tuxedo, dancing with other people. 

This event shouldn’t have even been interesting. It was an average party, to Lucifer’s way of thinking. His only job should have been to keep the pretty girls away from Sam. Lucifer still wasn’t sure why Sam wasn’t interested in courting, but he knew the reason was good enough that not even Sam’s parents or grandfather felt compelled to insist Sam start looking into possible suitors. Lucifer would figure it out eventually and the little mystery gave Lucifer something to ponder over whenever he had to dance with some simpering little girl. 

He hoped that night would end with Sam’s eyes on him again. He was wearing the same tuxedo as when he’d last caught Sam looking at him too closely. Lucifer needed all the advantages he could get. Missouri and Lisa watched him like a hawk. If Sam made a move on Lucifer, then he imagined the women would be less inclined to spin a story to everyone in town that he preferred the company of goats to women.

“Prince Winchester,” the host said. He was an older, balding man; a noble of middle birth and pleasant enough that Lucifer actually liked him and could converse with him without need for snide comments. “Have you met the doctor, yet?” 

“What, no, did he come?” Sam asked, his face suddenly lighting up. Sam Winchester had a very pleasant kind of smile, one that Lucifer had found himself during becoming quite fond of the months of his employment. 

“Yes,” the man said with an energetic smile. “Doctor Shurley, Prince Winchester has been quite interested in meeting with you, please.” 

And just like that, as if from nowhere the man drew one of Lucifer’s brothers that he had not seen in years. 

Raphael wasn’t quite as tall as Lucifer; in fact they looked nothing alike. Raphael was from one of their father’s affairs with a slave woman on their holding. But Raphael was a Shurley and that meant that their father had paid Raphael’s way through Harvard Medical almost completely on bribes. The end result was possibly the best doctor the country had seen, one who had learned from war and triage what did and did not work. 

Lucifer had a memory of a few years back when he’d sat with Raphael on the back porch and looked out at the fields now that were now picked mostly by sharecroppers. Raphael had spoken animatedly about the advances in medicine because of their Civil War and how much good had been done from the war. Lucifer had hummed along, lost in thought of sixteen year old Raphael working on men screaming and dying in agony. Lucifer knew what a war hospital looked like, though he’d been lucky enough to never need to be in one. 

Raphael blinked at Lucifer. He was clearly just as surprised to see Lucifer as Lucifer was to see him. There wasn’t officially a feud between the Shurleys and the Winchesters, but even with their father’s passing, Lucifer knew that Michael would never let go of their father’s bitterness that he had not won the kingship. Lucifer had been with Sam for five months and for all that the Winchesters and Shurley were supposedly on the same social level and should run in the same circles, Lucifer had seen no other member of his family besides Castiel. 

Yet Raphael stood before him, dressed well, though without the extra trim of a lesser house trying to make themselves look better. There was surprise on his dark face and sadness in his eyes. Lucifer had a moment where he wanted to grip Raphael tight to him. But the moment passed and Raphael’s expression became blank. 

“I’m sorry, Doctor Shurley?” Sam asked. 

“Yes, Prince Winchester?” Raphael asked.

“I was wondering if you knew my companion?” Sam asked. Lucifer nearly blushed when he realized that he didn’t know how long he and Raphael had been staring at one another. 

“No, I’m not certain that I do. Although he looks familiar. I may have come across him during my work,” Raphael said. 

“Oh, have you been looking into medicine for fighters?” Sam asked. 

“Your companion is a fighter?” Raphael asked. Lucifer could still hear the surprise in Raphael’s deep voice, but that was only because they had known each other since they were children. 

“Yes, and a very good one. Lucifer is also my guard,” Sam said. Sam patted Lucifer on the shoulder and Lucifer wished that he wouldn’t touch him while Raphael was there. It was bad enough that Raphael now knew how to find him. Lucifer did not want his closeness to Sam to get back to Michael. 

“Ah, no,” Raphael said. “I’m afraid I don’t frequent fighting halls, not in this country anyway. I did serve a brief stint as a medic in England, but that was many years ago.” 

“Lucifer, do you know him?” Sam asked. 

“His is not a face I would forget,” Lucifer said. It was only a little like a lie. But Raphael showed no indication of being willing to acknowledge him, so Lucifer would make no efforts to do any differently. 

“Ah,” Sam said. He almost sounded disappointed. “Anyway, Doctor, I have been very impressed with your work… though would you prefer if I called you Doctor, or your noble titles?” 

“Baron is the name my father bestowed upon me both out of guilt and reluctance to have his bastard son be ranked as high as his legitimate sons. Doctor is the name I earned,” Raphael said. Lucifer felt his chest swell with pride. That Raphael could say such things made Lucifer again want to throw his arms around Raphael. But just because Raphael was willing to speak against their father did not mean that he would welcome Lucifer. Lucifer kept his hands to himself. 

“Doctor it is then,” Sam said with a smile in his voice. Lucifer glanced over. He watched Sam’s face as he took Raphael’s hand and shook it. “You are quite a popular topic in our household.” 

“Is that so?” Raphael asked, glancing at Lucifer. Lucifer couldn’t be certain but it seemed to him that Raphael gave him a scathing look. 

“Yes, Missouri Mosley, our cook and family friend finds every article she can about you. You should hear her talk about you, it’s like you’re one of the family,” Sam said with a smile. This was very true. Missouri hardly spoke highly of anyone, but she was enamored with the success of Raphael. A lot of people were. He was a symbol that a black man could think and be very skilled. Even the most negro-hating man would still hesitate to say slurs to Raphael’s face. And any sane man wanted Raphael to be the one to perform surgery on them if they needed it. 

“I am told this is quite common,” Raphael said. He was polite, but clearly not that interested. But then Raphael had never been much interested in people’s personalities. He was interested in science and medicine and his brothers and that was about it. 

“Yes, I read the article you wrote about the differences between using a sponge and a cloth for wiping out wounds and the suggestion of why cloth treated wounds seem to heal better[3] . I thought it was a fascinating discussion. Tell me, I heard you served abroad, is that where you did your research?” 

“In part,” Raphael said. “It allowed me a chance to observe in a way that is proper to write papers with. But I learned during the Civil war.” 

“Were you a solider?” Sam asked. 

“I was too young to enlist, so I went to the field hospitals and helped to tend to the wounded. I became very well acquainted with how the practiced worked, or at least how well it could work with so little time, sleep and resources.” 

“I imagine,” Sam said. “How long did you work for?” 

“I worked in earnest when I turned 16, though I helped before that for two years. I did assist with surgeries when I was 16, though not before because the doctor I assisted would not allow it before then.” 

“That’s very young to have field training already, did it help when you got to school?” Sam asked. Lucifer watched Raphael, already used to Sam’s quiet, earnest interest in learning a little bit about everything. Raphael looked pleased to have an audience. 

“Not as much as you would think. I needed to understand the reasons why I did what I was told so that I would be able to make the decisions later myself.” 

“Well, it seems you have done quite well,” Sam said. “Grandfather spoke very highly of his meeting with you.” 

“It’s a shame it couldn’t have been at a better time,” Raphael said. Lucifer noted rare earnesty in Raphael’s voice. 

“My grandmother had been sick even as a child,” Sam said. “My grandfather is still very fond of you.” 

“I am honored,” Raphael said. Lucifer smiled a bit, seeing Raphael’s cheeks darken. 

“I hope it would not be too much to impose, but if you ever have a free evening, we would love to have you for dinner.” 

“I doubt lawyers are very interested in medicine,” Raphael said. 

“Yes, but Ben is still trying to decide what profession he wishes to undertake. Lisa would kill me if I didn’t ask you to come so she can try to get you to talk to her son. And Missouri would find a way to poison me if I didn’t invite you over.” 

Raphael laughed, deep and full. “I understand about troublesome women. My Angela is quiet a handful.” 

“Not that you’d say that to her face,” Sam said, nodding along. Lucifer didn’t know Angela and that bothered him. But he couldn’t ask, though he wanted to. 

Castiel was only slightly less on the fringes of their family and his only previous contact had been the family’s black sheep, Balthazar. After Balthazar was imprisoned, Castiel didn’t have a source of information for what happened in the Shurley family. Lucifer wondered who else had gotten married. Michael had been courting a woman when he threw Lucifer out. Gabriel had pledged to be a bachelor forever when Kali, the daughter for a foreign dignitary, had broken his heart and Michael had forbidden an interracial marriage. Where were his brothers? What were they doing? 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Sam said, hearing the music shift. “I’m afraid I have a few women I must dance with. Doctor Shurley,” he said with a nod. He offered the host his arm like he would a woman. The man laughed and let Sam lead him away. 

“I’ll have to go rescue him soon,” Lucifer said. 

“Is it hard to guard the most eligible bachelor in the country?” 

“Mostly from raging mothers,” Lucifer said. “Got a nasty set of scars from one woman’s nails.” That was a funny story. Lucifer just didn’t feel like telling it. Words felt like ash in his mouth. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you in such a place,” Raphael said quietly. He and Lucifer moved away from the dance floor, toward the back. Neither of them were likely to be asked to dance. And as long as Lucifer kept his eyes on Sam while he danced, no one would question him. 

“Nor was I prepared to see you here. To my recollection you are not fond of these types of events.” 

“Angela wanted to attend, but insisted I go even though she could not.” 

“Is she ill?” He had thoughts of her dying before he ever got to meet the woman. 

“You could call it that. She’s eight months pregnant and having Braxton Hicks contractions.” 

“Congratulations,” Lucifer said. He was smiling. He couldn’t believe how good it felt. He had been so wrapped up in his anger for so long that he hadn’t had a single positive thought about his family for years. But thinking about his serious little brother about to be a father made his heart swell.

“Angela is hoping for a daughter,” Raphael said. 

“Are you hoping for a son?” 

“I’m hoping for ten fingers and ten toes and everything attached in its proper place. I’ll worry about sex later,” Raphael said. Lucifer couldn’t help the way his smile grew. Their conversations had been so easy once, Raphael following him around and Michael around like a lost duck.

“I hope you both get what you want, then,” Lucifer said. “Does she make you happy?” 

“I hope I make her happy. She’s beautiful, Lucifer. She shines so easily and smiles so gracefully. They never forget how I look or who I am, but I swear they forget with her.” Raphael sounded so proud and so happy. Lucifer couldn’t remember him ever looking so at ease before. 

“I’m glad for you.” 

“Truly?” Raphael asked. From the corner of his eye Lucifer could see Raphael looking at him, probably searching for the lie. 

“Truly,” Lucifer said. 

“You are working for the Winchesters now,” Raphael said. Lucifer nearly laughed at the abrupt change of subject, but that was normal with Raphael. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “They treat me well, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Michael would not approve.” 

“The one good thing about being out of the house is that I don’t have to worry one whit about what Michael wants,” Lucifer said, his smile turning bitter. He could see Sam spinning some young thing that he had no interest in. Sam met his eyes for a moment and looked worried. Lucifer nearly grimaced. He hated when Sam worried about him. It made him feel guilty. 

They slipped into silence. Lucifer didn’t want to talk about Michael. His eyes didn’t leave Sam who was now spinning around a different girl. He always flirted just enough that people did not consider his lack of marriage as him being a homosexual. But Sam also never flirted any longer than he had to. Lucifer had been watching Sam long enough to recognize this. 

Sam smiled and Lucifer realized that not only was Sam smiling at him, but also for him. Lucifer smiled in return. His smile widened when Sam’s smile broadened. He literally spun the girl right off her feet, but Lucifer felt like that was Sam trying to show off for him. Sam wanted him, not that girl. Sometimes when Sam looked at him not with lust, but honest interest and care Lucifer would admit to himself that he really liked being wanted. 

“Your employer is an enjoyable man,” Raphael said. 

“He is kind,” Lucifer said. “And he likes to ask questions.” 

“Do you answer them?” Raphael asked. 

“When I can,” Lucifer said. He saw Sam break away from the dance and walk over to him. 

“Mrs. Weatherbee wants to know if you’d be willing to partner with her for the Mazurka,” Sam said. 

“Of course,” Lucifer said before glancing at Raphael who had tipped his head up to look at Sam. 

“Are you heading home soon, Doctor?” Sam asked. 

“Yes, although I’m afraid if I don’t dance at least one dance my wife won’t allow me to come home,” Raphael said. “She believes I need more social interaction.” 

“I’m certain we can find you someone,” Sam said. “Come,” he said. It was an order of a Prince, no one would say no. But Sam said with a smile and an offered arm, which made him seem silly and non-threatening, despite his height and status. 

“Do not attempt to sway me with your charms. My brothers have never been able to,” Raphael said. 

“I thought you’d simply want to return to your wife’s bed as soon as possible,” Sam said with an all too innocent smile. 

“Logic, though, that will win,” Raphael said and took Sam’s arm. Sam flashed Lucifer a smile as he led Lucifer’s brother out to the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [3] The Civil War actually was a huge time for medical advancement. A lot of it had to do simply with a lack of supplies. Before doctors wiped out wounds with sponges, but they’d use the same sponge over and over for different patients. They ran out of sponges during the Civil War and had to use cloths, which was much more sanitary as they weren’t coming into contact with multiple people’s blood.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam wanted to kiss Dean. He really did. An impromptu vacation to the beach for himself and Ben and Lisa with Missouri in tow? Dean had done Sam a huge favor. Until Friday evening, he and Lucifer would be on their own. He owed Dean big time. 

Sam and Dean’s conversations about Lucifer hadn’t changed that much over the past few months, even when Lucifer was allowed to move in with them. Dean didn’t like Lucifer. Lucifer didn’t talk up to Dean, in fact he rather seemed to talk down to him. Dean normally liked someone he could quip with, but Lucifer’s hurting Castiel still made Dean hate the man. 

But while Dean didn’t like Lucifer at all, he knew how much Sam liked him. He knew how afraid Sam was to approach Lucifer. Dean had dubbed this bit of alone time the “Sam Winchester better find his balls” vacation. There would be no maids and no cooks for the next few days. Lucifer and Sam together had enough kitchen skills to muddle through, and it meant that no one would ask questions about why Lucifer left Sam’s room in the morning. 

If they got to that, of course. Sam worried that Lucifer might think that sex was something Sam expected him to provide. Sam knew of other nobles who paid a lot less, but expected a lot more from their guards. And the guards would often do it out of desperation and the hope that if they did as they were told then they’d get a good recommendation for another noble who was higher up. Sam pitied them. They didn’t know that they would simply be referred to other men who used their money to indulge in less than legal activities. 

Sam didn’t want Lucifer to think it was something he had to do, though. But Sam was becoming desperate. It seemed like Lucifer was interested. Lucifer only seemed to smile for him. And Lucifer’s hand always seemed to accidentally brush against him at least once a day. Lucifer spoke to him often and even laughed at Sam’s terrible jokes. At the very least Lucifer enjoyed his company. But sometimes the way Lucifer looked at him through his eyelashes made Sam want to drag Lucifer across the table and kiss him. 

Sam hadn’t felt so desperate to kiss anyone since Jess. Lucifer reminded him of her some days. But Sam wasn’t going to think about that. He was going to tell Lucifer how he felt and just pray that Lucifer felt remotely the same and not at all threatened. He did seem supportive of Castiel and Dean and Lisa, so maybe there was a chance that Lucifer would understand that there wasn’t any pressure on him to say yes. 

“So, is the stew ready?” Lucifer asked. 

“Should be,” Sam said. He removed the spoon, blowing on it a bit. “Would you like to try?” 

“Are you having me test for poison, now?” Lucifer asked. But he leaned in and let Sam feed him a bit of soup. 

Sam had seen girls spend an incredible long time posing for pictures in states of near or complete undress in order to titillate men. In his mind those pictures would never measure up to the reality of the man in front of him nearly pressing himself to Sam in order to get in close enough to wrap his lips around the tip of that wooden spoon. 

“Sam?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yeah?” Sam asked, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. 

“I said it was good,” Lucifer said. He wiping at his mouth with his thumb, before licking his thumb to get some of the left over soup off. Sam felt his face go red. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, fine,” Sam said too hurriedly. He turned away and tried to think of his mother, or his grandmother, or anyone else that wasn’t Lucifer. He had thoughts, though. He couldn’t stop one particular image that entered his mind and would not leave. He realized he had to see if Lucifer would really do it.

“Sam?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam dipped the spoon back into the pot and took a sip. “Hm, do you think it needs a bit more salt?” 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer said. 

“Here, what do you think?” Sam asked. He dipped the spoon back into the pot and got a bit more out. He blew on it again before offering it to Lucifer. 

Lucifer looked between him and the spoon for a minute, seeming distrustful. Then he allowed himself to be fed again. Sam tipped the spoon up to be certain that a bit was left on Lucifer’s lip. 

“Whoops, spilled a bit,” Sam said. He reached out, clutching Lucifer’s chin so that he could swipe his own thumb across Lucifer’s lips. He stood there for a moment too long with warm soup on his thumb, before he realized just how many boundaries he’d crossed. 

Sam opened his mouth to apologize. Lucifer also opened his mouth, but his tongue darted out and, just like in Sam’s fantasy, licked the soup off Sam’s thumb. But Lucifer went beyond the image in Sam’s mind and wrapped his mouth completely around Sam’s thumb, gently sucking on the digits. 

Sam’s mind must have completely gone away. That was all Sam could imagine. Because Lucifer sucked on his thumb, and he was really doing it. And Sam wasn’t moving. He wasn’t even certain he was breathing. Lucifer looked at Sam through his lashes and Sam knew he had to be red in his face because Lucifer smirked broadly. 

Lucifer removed his mouth from Sam’s thumb, but instead of pulling away he ran his tongue up the side of Sam’s thumb and then back down. This wasn’t a sign Sam could misinterpret, especially not when Lucifer’s tongue played over the webbing between his thumb and index finger. 

Sam gripped Lucifer’s chin and tipped his head up so Sam could smash their lips together. It lacked finesse. Hell, it even hurt and their teeth knocked together behind the skin of their lips. But it was perfect in Sam’s mind because Lucifer cupped his hand over the one of Sam’s that still held Lucifer’s chin. 

Lucifer was the one who pulled back first. “I was wondering when you would do that.” 

If Sam hadn’t been red before, his face must have been completely red after that remark. “You were waiting for me?” he asked. 

“You’re not exactly subtle, Highness,” Lucifer said. He reached up and tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair like it was a familiar gesture. It took nothing for Lucifer to drag Sam down into a kiss, because they stood so close in height and Sam was more than willing. 

This kiss was a lot better. It was still close lipped and even chaste. But it was controlled and there was no knocking of teeth or the tearing of skin because of that. Sam could still taste blood, but that was only a small thought in the back of his mind. The most predominant thoughts boiled down to this: Lucifer Milton was kissing him. 

Sam jerked back suddenly. “Is this okay? I mean I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. I’m very fond of you and I don’t want you to do this because you think I expect it because I’m paying you,” he started. He felt panic rising in his chest. Lucifer was so perfect the way he’d kissed Sam like that. Sam didn’t want it to be just because Lucifer thought it was a duty he needed to perform. 

Lucifer burst into laughter and Sam felt tension ease in his chest. Lucifer wouldn’t laugh if he was worried. Laughter wasn’t something that seemed to come easily to Lucifer, but he laughed now, fully. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t feel like Sam was safe. 

“You are the most preposterous child I’ve ever met,” Lucifer said, wiping his eyes to clear away laughter tears. 

Sam couldn’t help but pout. “I am not.” 

“I know you know what you’re doing,” Lucifer said, still chuckling as he continued to wipe his eyes. 

Sam rubbed the end of his nose in embarrassment. He sent up a prayer to God that he’d look nearly so good when he was Lucifer’s age. “You didn’t have to remind me of my age,” Sam said. 

“You remind me of mine all the time,” Lucifer pointed out. Sam shrugged. It was true after all. “So, is the soup ready?” 

Sam looked at Lucifer and his too innocent smile for a long moment. “You’re evil.” 

“I do try,” Lucifer said. Sam turned back to the stove. Sam felt Lucifer’s hip brush against his buttocks as he walked by to get bowls. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam asked. 

“Tell you what?” 

“That you were interested in me?”

“Oh, that,” Lucifer said. Sam felt red go back to his face, but it was from anger. Sam was so out of his mind for Lucifer that it hurt to hear Lucifer be so flippant. “I was told that I should keep my hands to myself unless I wanted the world to think I had relations with goats.” 

Sam had to stare at Lucifer like he lost his mind. “What?” 

“The women in your life are terrifying, Sam,” Lucifer said deadpan. “I wasn’t going to cross them. I knew you wanted me and I’m a patient man.” 

“So Lisa and Missouri threatened your very soul if you indicated you were interested?” Sam asked. 

“They suggested there might be some trauma that I shouldn’t poke at. So I didn’t,” Lucifer said. He bumped his hip against Sam in a very Missouri-like way to get Sam to move. When Sam did move, Lucifer ladled stew into two bowls for them.

Sam was certain that Lucifer couldn’t have not noticed his silence. He just hadn’t planned to get into this, not so soon. But Sam realized that Lucifer wasn’t asking. Lucifer was setting the table and not even looking at him. 

“You’re not going to ask?” 

“No,” Lucifer said. 

“Why not?” Sam demanded. Did Lucifer not really care? Was he only interested in sex? Surely Lucifer had to wonder why Sam wasn’t bothering to even appear to court a woman, even to be free of his swarm of suitors.

Lucifer blew air up so Sam could see his bangs move. “I could guess there was something wrong before you asked me to work for you. You weren’t the only one watching.” Sam was a bit taken aback. Lucifer had become more loose tongued since he moved in. But Sam hadn’t expected Lucifer to just admit to watching Sam, or acknowledging Sam’s own stares.

“I still don’t understand,” Sam said quietly. 

“I agree with their assessment that you are hurt. But I do not agree that you cannot decide for yourself what you want. If it is important to you, then you’ll tell me one day. I won’t ask you, though I may hope that you’ll tell me one day.” 

Sam felt his heart swell. “Thank you.” 

“It’s human decency,” Lucifer said. “Now, eat. You need your energy.” 

Sam smiled a bit. His cheeks were still red. Lucifer wanted him, really wanted him. Sam wondered how Lucifer had imagined them together. He wanted to ask, but he also had a feeling that Lucifer would not do anything but tease him until they’d eaten. So Sam set about eating. 

“I appreciate what you said,” Lucifer said. When Sam was about half way done with his stew. 

“What did I say?” Sam asked in confusion. Lucifer took a bite of his stew and Sam had to wait for him to finish chewing. 

“You worried about me feeling forced,” Lucifer said. “Sam, did it occur to you that I would not look at you if I thought my body was a commodity you had bought?” 

“Some nobles see body guards like that.” 

“That’s buying my skill,” Lucifer said. 

“I know I’ve heard whores say the same thing,” Sam said. 

“Are you actually trying to insult me, Highness?” Lucifer asked, raising one eyebrow. “I told you I’m a patient man. I can wait until you’re not calling me names. Might take weeks, or months even.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Sam said. “And please… don’t… Highness is for public. I don’t want to be the Prince right now. Just Sam.” 

Lucifer looked at him for a long moment, the nodded. “Alright, S-sam,” he said. But he’d hesitated and Sam heard it. He smiled. It was nice to know that Sam could fluster Lucifer, even if it was only a little. 

Sam finished off his stew. Lucifer took their bowls and put them in the sink. “Missouri would fuss at us for not washing the dishes immediately.” 

“Missouri’s not here,” Sam pointed out. Why were they waiting? He walked to Lucifer, stalked really. He grabbed Lucifer by his suspenders and pulled him into a kiss. Lucifer molded against him. 

“Your room?” Lucifer asked, pulling away a little. 

“Bed’s better,” Sam agreed. Somehow he’d imagined a mad dash to get to the bedroom. But Lucifer took his hand and they walked up side by side. Lucifer was patient. He’d waited the over five months of his employment, or maybe ever longer if he actually had been watching Sam for a while. Sam wasn’t that patient. He tugged Lucifer into his room and shut the door. 

“Go, sit,” Lucifer said. Sam cocked his head to a one side in what he knew was an excellent imitation of Castiel’s confused stare. Lucifer rewarded Sam with a laugh. Lucifer knelt at Sam’s feet, which confused Sam. Lucifer gathered up one of his feet and began to slowly unlace Sam’s shoe. 

“Are you going to undress me?” Sam asked. 

“I’ve waited a long time,” Lucifer said. He looked at Sam through his lashes and Sam gasped. He loved the shocking blue of Lucifer’s gaze. “I don’t like to wait.” 

Sam realized that he was in trouble then. Lucifer hummed something while working on Sam’s shoes. It felt like an agonizingly slow amount of time while Lucifer just got him down to bare feet. Lucifer placed kisses along the arches of Sam’s feet. His finger slipped up under the hem of Sam’s pants, just touching a bit of skin. His touch was reverent and almost shy. But Sam didn’t ask for more.

Lucifer stood, taking the shoes and socks with him. He tossed the socks in the first laundry and put the shoes back in their proper place. Then he returned to Sam. He stripped Sam out of his jacket, taking a moment for lingering little brushes of fingers over Sam’s shoulders. Sam watched Lucifer hang up the jacket in the closet. 

Lucifer was so at ease and practiced. He hummed tunes that Sam recognized from symphonies he’d attended. Lucifer returned to kneel at Sam’s feet. He slowly slipped one suspender off Sam’s shoulder and then the other. Outside of his jacket, which Lucifer had shed the second he’d come home, Lucifer was still completely dressed. 

Rough fingers found Sam’s buttons. One at a time they came undone. Lucifer was barely touching him. Sam wasn’t panting, but the intensity of Lucifer’s focus was one of the most erotic things Sam had ever experienced. Sam had imagined, while watching Lucifer analyze every part of an opponent in the ring, that Lucifer had that type of gaze in the bedroom. But Sam had underestimated. It was like Lucifer’s whole being was focused on Sam. That level of attention made Sam’s heart pound. But he didn’t break the tension by talking. He didn’t want to. 

Sam did move, though. He just cupped Lucifer’s face and held his gaze for a moment and smiled. Lucifer was as close to a friend as Sam could get. They talked about everything. There were things Sam never asked because Lucifer always got quiet when Sam asked about his family. And Lucifer never pressed on an issue that seemed to be uncomfortable for Sam. Lucifer was the man Sam had watched fight like a wild animal. Lucifer was the one who teased Sam all the time. But not Dean’s brother teasing. 

He wanted all of those things and he wanted that intensity. Lucifer held Sam’s gaze for a moment. He leaned into Sam’s touch but it was more of a question: is this okay? Sam rubbed his thumb over the apple of Lucifer’s cheek. 

Lucifer’s hands had been stilled, but the motion of Sam’s thumb seemed to jolt Lucifer awake from whatever trance he’d been in. His hands went to Sam’s pants. He unbuttoned them, but only used the leeway to remove Sam’s shirt completely, followed by the undershirt. Lucifer leaned in close so he could remove Sam’s suspenders. 

Again Lucifer moved away, taking the suspenders and shirt with him. Sam watched with amusement as Lucifer tossed the shirts in with the socks from earlier. Then he put the suspenders away. Sam shivered a bit. It wasn’t cool enough yet that Dean couldn’t take his family to the beach. And it wasn’t cool enough to really start heating the rooms. But it was cool enough to cover Sam’s skin with goosebumps. 

Lucifer returned. He grabbed the waist of Sam’s pants, pulling Sam’s hips off the bed. Sam knew enough to keep his hips up so Lucifer could pull of his pants and under pants in one tug. Lucifer again made a trip to the laundry basket, dumping the clothes in. Sam sat naked on the bed, watching Lucifer as he went. 

Music filled the room again as Lucifer started to hum a familiar tune that Sam had heard music halls a few times. It occurred to him that he should wonder how Lucifer knew it. Although Lucifer had told him he had a small inheritance. Maybe some family member had taken him or something. 

But all of those thoughts fled Sam’s mind when Lucifer started to move his hips in time with the tune he was humming. Lucifer really had no shame. This wasn’t a song for dancing to. It wasn’t a song for a dance hall or a brothel, but Lucifer danced like it was. Lucifer just looked at Sam with the same expression he’d worn since they arrived in Sam’s room. 

Sam decided to sit back and watch. Maybe it should have seemed like punishment. Sam didn’t like the look and no touch act. But with Lucifer so focused on looking at him it was hard to understand how he could hum such an innocent song and dance such a sensual dance and still be able to slowly tug his suspenders off his shoulders.

This wasn’t going to be like what Lucifer did for Sam. For one, Lucifer had apparently toed off his shoes and socks at some point when Sam wasn’t paying attention. Sam didn’t know why Lucifer’s bare feet seemed so important, but he knew they were. 

Lucifer began to unbutton his shirt. Though his suspenders were off his shoulders they hung on the crooks of his arms as he continued to dance and strip. Sam started to hum along, recognizing the tune. Lucifer switched to the harmony. He didn’t just know the song, he knew it well.

Sam would have been surprised if he hadn’t been focused on Lucifer unbuttoning his pants. Lucifer had just unbuttoned all the way down the shirt and to the pants. They still stayed up because of the suspenders. Lucifer pulled his shirt tails out of his pants. Then he pulled both the shirt and undershirt off in one go. He let them drop to the floor, followed quickly by his pants and then his underpants. 

But he was still dancing. It took Sam a minute too long to realize that Lucifer was waiting for the end of the song, a song which had to be another seven minutes long. Sam wanted to groan, but he kept humming. He wanted to touch Lucifer. He’d been wanting for a long time. While seeing him dance was amazing it wasn’t what Sam wanted. 

He didn’t know if God just liked him, or if he’d made some kind of noise or expression to tip Lucifer of, but Lucifer started to dance over to Sam. He crawled up on the bed, still swinging his hips, his buttocks now up in the air. He crawled up Sam until Sam was lying down. Sam decided two could play at that game. 

Sam’s hands gripped Lucifer’s buttock’s following the swaying of Lucifer hips. Lucifer’s mouth found his, still humming the end of the song until its completion. Then Lucifer allowed himself to cover Sam. They couldn’t last in that position forever. But for a moment they just looked at each other and felt each other. 

Again the word perfect came to Sam’s mind. Lucifer felt perfect, and not at all like what Sam had imagined. Lucifer was older and his stomach wasn’t solid like Sam’s or even Dean’s of Castiel’s. There was a bit of loose skin, which Sam hadn’t realized he found attractive until he’d seen Lucifer dancing bare. Lucifer had scars and imperfections and a lot of hair. But Lucifer also seemed completely comfortable in his body. That made Sam want him all the more. 

“Should I kiss my sleeping prince?” Lucifer breathed. He sounded breathless. It could have been from dancing, but the blush that was gracing Lucifer’s face made Sam doubt it. He was trying to sound smug, but he just looked wanting. 

Sam tangled his fingers in Lucifer’s hair and dragged him into a kiss that ended with a bite. Sam didn’t draw blood, but the very sudden and quiet sound Lucifer made when Sam bit him jolted Sam’s heart. Sam kissed Lucifer again before he became distracted by the mole on Lucifer’s left cheek. Sam found it adorable generally, especially when Lucifer smiled or wink and it shifted into the folds of skin. Sam ran his tongue over it because he could. His hands trailed back down to Lucifer’s buttocks, fingers beginning to dig into the skin once more.

“Want me?” Lucifer asked with a smirk. 

“Stop talking,” Sam said. He gripped tighter against Lucifer’s buttocks. Lucifer made a sound that Sam assumed was pleased. It definitely didn’t sound bad. Lucifer’s mouth found his, but this time it was the frenzied rush that Sam had imagined all the way back down in the kitchen when Lucifer suddenly licked him thumb.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel wasn’t even home a day before he dragged Sam away for a conversation. Dean had quietly informed Castiel about his plan part way through their vacation. Castiel had only frowned then, though he’d wished he could have buried his head in the sand. He knew this was a terrible idea. It wasn’t just about Sam getting hurt. Castiel’s relationship with Dean and Lisa was already dangerous enough, but throwing another homosexual relationship in under the same roof was asking for the hammer of God to strike them all down.

“We must talk,” Castiel said when he grabbed Sam’s arm and dragged him down to Sam’s study. Sam had followed without question. He hadn’t even asked what Castiel had to say once Castiel shut the door and turned to face him. That had been a few minutes previous, and yet Castiel still hadn’t said anything. 

He felt guilt for having to tell the story. Sam couldn’t stop smiling. Castiel hadn’t seen Sam so happy since when he’d been in a relationship with Jessica Moore. His hands found Lucifer without thought or worry. Sam had walked by Lucifer in the sitting room. His hand had tangled in Lucifer’s hair and tipped back his head so Sam could place a kiss on his forehead. Lucifer smiled easily in a way Castiel had never seen. Lucifer seemed calm for the first time in Castiel’s memory as well. 

He felt guilt and shame just thinking of the story he needed to tell. He had a lot of secrets from the Winchesters. It wasn’t always that he endeavored not to tell, it was mostly that he didn’t think it mattered. Occasionally his stories were too violent. He didn’t want his new family to think of the world as such a bad place. Other times he just forgot what he had told. But he had a few secrets he kept because he didn’t think even his family could deal with it. He knew his family could deal with this one, but he didn’t know if he could. 

“I had a best friend from the Shurley family,” Castiel started. “Balthazar. He wasn’t nearly untouchable like I was, just from a minor branch. His family had titles but no land and money only because the main branch off the family allowed it. Their position was always precarious, but Balthazar didn’t care. He still came to see me. He liked me, genuinely. And I liked him.” 

Castiel glanced at Sam to see if he was listening. Sam had gone to sit in one of the chairs he kept for guests. He nodded, which Castiel knew meant Sam had been paying attention. Castiel took a deep breath and continued. 

“Balthazar and I were even in the same unit. He served under me when I got promoted. He told me once that he would go to Hell if I was leading the way.” 

“He sounds like a good man,” Sam said. 

“He is,” Castiel said. He knew his voice had come too quick, too loud and too defensive. He tried for calmer speech. “He is a good man.” 

“What happened to him?” Sam gently prompted. Castiel’s tone suggested that what happened had been anything but good. 

“My cousin was a good man, but he was indiscriminate when it came to bed partners. He liked whoever he liked and chased after them, sometimes many people at once.” 

“Like you and-” Sam started. 

“Yes and no. He told me once about a group of twelve he’d joined for sex. He was curious about what people did in bed, very interested in joining them when he could.” 

“This was controversial in your family?” Sam asked. 

“It would have been if any of them knew, or cared to know. But Balthazar was a minor person on the family tree, and Gabriel’s love affair with an Indian diplomat’s daughter was more important to the family at the time. No, that wasn’t what happened.” 

“What did happen?” Sam pressed. 

“He began dallying with a higher lord’s son. And the lord found out. It was consensual, I promise you. I met the young man; he was quite taken with Balthazar. But his father was mortified. He turned Balthazar in. In the end Balthazar was charged with sodomy, rape, and violence against a higher noble.” 

“Oh,” Sam said. Even though there had been no sign of violence against the young man, and he’d even spoken in Balthazar’s defense, it didn’t matter. Sodomy charges generally didn’t have terribly long sentences, but all the lord had to do was convince the jury that Balthazar was a sodomite and they would have charged him with anything else they were asked to. 

“Yes,” Castiel said. “He was a good man, a patriot. I haven’t seen him in years, Sam. They won’t let me send letters. I got to visit once. He’d lost so much weight, Sam. Do you know what they do to homosexuals in prison?” 

“I know it’s not good,” Sam said. 

Castiel had been standing on the opposite side of the room from Sam. Now he sat down in a chair next to Sam. “They don’t allow them proper healthcare. The room I saw was drafty. Balthazar was alive. He showed me the meal he’d been given. It is best described as enough food to keep him alive, but not enough so he would want to live.”[4] 

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” Sam said. He grabbed Castiel’s hand and squeezed. Castiel smiled weakly. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have done something.” 

“You did enough,” Castiel said weakly. 

“How?” Sam demanded. 

“Didn’t you ever wonder about my debts?” Castiel asked. 

“Well, yes, I did. But Dean said not to pry. I thought you told him.” 

“I told him it was personal and I didn’t want to tell him. He stopped asking. Lisa never asked. I paid for Balthazar’s council because his family cut him off as soon as he was arrested. I paid bail as well. I paid for everything because he was my friend. As far as I can tell I maybe saved my friend a year or two of prison time, though maybe that is just wishful thinking on my part.” 

“Cas,” Sam said gently. Castiel had been looking down at his hands. He looked up when Sam used Dean’s nickname for him. 

“I don’t think he’ll be alive long enough to make it out of prison, Sam,” Castiel admitted in a near whisper. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked. 

“I didn’t want your family to be put in a position that might put you at a disadvantage. I didn’t want Dean to try and bribe someone. I didn’t want it getting out that your family could manipulate the system.” 

“The system was already manipulated,” Sam snapped. 

“No,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “It was just prejudice. The lord only had to bring the charges.” 

“Castiel,” Sam said. He squeezed Castiel’s hand again. Castiel shut his eyes, willing the image of Balthazar in prison clothes from his eyes. He’d been so dead behind the eyes. “Maybe grandfather can pardon him at the new year,” he suggested. 

“I can’t ask for that,” Castiel said. 

“I’m offering. He does a lot. I can slip him in. I doubt anyone will pay attention,” Sam said. Castiel opened his eyes to find Sam’s kind and hopeful smile waiting for him. Castiel sat up and gripped Sam’s hand. 

“I didn’t tell you this for sympathy, Sam, or to ask for help. You think you’re bullet proof and you are not. Or even if you are, Lucifer is not. Your parents and grandfather might not care, but we can’t know because we haven’t told them about any of what we’re doing in this house. Lucifer and I are both the logical martyrs for this. I don’t want to one day visit that prison and find Lucifer looking like Balthazar did.” 

“I don’t want that either,” Sam said. 

“I know you don’t,” Castiel said. “But I need you to be careful. You two are happy now. It only takes one little slip and everything will fall apart. I need you to swear that you will both be careful, more careful than Dean or I have ever been. Dean is married, you have no one.” 

“I will be,” Sam said in his most serious voice. “I swear.” 

“Don’t just swear, Sam. Do it.” 

“I will.” 

Sam sounded so determined. But Castiel was still afraid. He’d seen everything fall apart before. He didn’t want to see the broken look in Sam’s eyes when he lost another person he loved. And he didn’t want that easy smile to leave Lucifer’s face forever.


	9. Chapter 9

Lucifer liked Saturdays. He especially liked Saturdays when Sam signed him up for the fighting lists. Lucifer hadn’t expected it, but he didn’t like just watching from the sidelines anymore. He didn’t just want to analyze to see how he could profit. He wanted to analyze an opponent to figure out the best way to hurt him. 

They were there alone this week. Lisa requested Dean for another family outing of some form, shopping possibly. They’d only been home for a week before Lisa insisted that her family should spend more time together. Lucifer didn’t know if that meant the time at the beach had been good or bad, but he wasn’t going to ask. 

He especially was going to keep to himself because of both Lisa and Missouri’s pointed looks at him. He hadn’t realized until they were actually angry at him that he truly enjoyed their presence. Though to the outside world the Winchester brothers ran a good home, it was really the women who ran it. The husbands and lovers deferred to Lisa and Missouri on everything for good reason. Their jobs were more about the Winchesters’ political lives than Sam or Dean. 

A good home looked good for Dean and Sam. Lisa attended many functions with noble or wealthy wives, getting them on her side and by extension, their husbands on Dean’s side. Missouri talked with the people in her neighborhood and church community and basically anyone who would listen about how good it was working for the Winchesters and how much they cared about the common man. Henry Winchester had won on the people’s vote, which was a rare feet. Michael would be in the running for King as well as Dean. Lucifer would lie down in front of a train before he’d allow Michael to win.

That was why when he got to the locker room he quietly told people who asked him how his employment was going some of the finer details. Not the sex of course, but he explained that Sam was an honorable man who would about fall all over himself rather than make Lucifer think something was required of him that wasn’t. He spoke about the honest acceptance he received and the fact that he wasn’t ignored or treated like less. Any vote was a good vote, and people liked to talk. 

He changed his clothes and warmed up, his mind back in Sam’s bed. Sam was an honorable man and did treat him like a human being, not like a servant or whore. If anything, and Lucifer found his guts twisting to admit it, Sam was as close as Lucifer had ever had to a real friend. Lucifer had been very close to his brothers, but that had been years before. Lucifer could be very friendly. But he didn’t form bonds with anyone. It was getting a little harder every day to not feel guilty for what he was doing. 

Sam was a prize for Lucifer, not just a project. Sam was the type of lover Lucifer had always deserved. Some days Lucifer would fantasize about meeting Sam when he’d still had his status and drawing Sam in. Instead of having to do as he was told, he’d be giving Sam the orders. Sam was clearly obsessed with him and found him attractive, so Lucifer had no problem believing that Sam would have wanted him back then. And even given Michael’s general loathing for homosexuals, Michael would probably accept Lucifer’s choice just so he’d have something to hold over the head of the Winchester household. 

It was a bitter kind of fantasy. It appealed to something deep in Lucifer, but it still felt wrong. For one thing Lucifer didn’t have to follow Sam’s orders. He did sometimes, but those were mostly times when Sam wanted to spend time learning every inch of Lucifer’s body with his tongue. It was only puppy love, Lucifer told himself. But Sam never smiled at him any differently now that Lucifer came to his bed than when Sam had only watched him from the stands. 

Sam Winchester was young and earnest and a challenge on a good day. Not a bad challenge, but like the time Gabriel and Lucifer had raced up the stairs in their father’s office building. Sam actually liked Lucifer. Lucifer enjoyed Sam’s company, much to his surprise. He enjoyed Sam’s body, which didn’t surprise him at all. Lucifer liked being with Sam in a way he didn’t enjoy being with anyone else. 

That thought startled Lucifer. He hadn’t thought about it for all his plans and scheming and wondering when he’d have enough dirt on Sam Winchester that he could start one of his games. But Lucifer realized that he didn’t want Sam to find out that he wanted him for his power and prestige. Yes, he did still want Sam for those things. He didn’t want Sam to realize it, not because it meant that Lucifer would really lose, but because then Sam would stop smiling at Lucifer like he always did. 

Lucifer couldn’t think on it for much longer because one of the attendants came to get him for his fight. He knew his opponent. He was a good man. He was shorter than Lucifer, but broader. Lucifer had no personal qualms with the man, who had never been anything but polite and respectful to everyone who passed through the locker room. The man was physically stronger than Lucifer, but a little older. He had a family. He also had lot more training from the military. He had been a guard before, off and on. 

Lucifer walked to the ring and glanced to the stands, expecting to see Sam in the back, which he did. But sitting next to Sam was Michael. Michael sat tall as ever, his black hair trimmed and his face neatly shaved. Even though he was older, he still looked younger than Lucifer, having a more baby-like face. He was as cold as Lucifer remembered him to be. He dressed like old money, expensive clothes that didn’t show off. At least Lucifer assumed he still did. He didn’t exactly have a lot of time, since he was already in the ring. He did see Michael lean over and whisper something in Sam’s ear. 

It felt like someone had shut off all of his senses for a moment. Michael was going to tell Sam. Lucifer had let himself forget that Raphael would have to report Lucifer to Michael. It was actually to Raphael’s credit that it had taken him so long. But Lucifer hadn’t even thought about Michael confronting him because he’d been too busy wrapping himself around Sam Winchester. 

But it was over now. Michael would tell everything. Even if Sam didn’t like the Shurleys, he would have to listen to Michael. Michael was too powerful and too respectable to ignore. Lucifer’s protests hadn’t meant anything when he still had his titles. Now that he had none he was about to lose everything he’d worked for. Even Crowley wouldn’t be able to keep him on if Michael spread the word around. 

He felt an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes before he felt an uncomfortable pressure in his gut. The fight had started and he hadn’t noticed. Lucifer wouldn’t have cared, except that Michael was watching him. 

Lucifer slammed his palms against his opponent’s ears, discombobulating the man. Opponent still reeling, Lucifer stomped on the man’s foot, forcing him to step back. His opponent made to punch him. Lucifer, being the faster, blocked with his arm before slamming his forehead against his opponent’s. The man stumbled back, completely thrown off his balance.

There were ways to fight that were honorable. Castiel fought with them. He used his strength and skill. Lucifer didn’t have the training to do that, so he had always resorted to the less honorable techniques. And now, he threw whatever honor he normally fought with aside. 

He slammed his arm near his elbow up into the man’s face. The man went down. He definitely broke the man’s nose. If he hit right he shoved the cartilage and bone of the man’s nose up into his brain and killed him. It happened sometimes. This was how Lucifer had been taught to kill a man, because it looked like an accident. 

Lucifer stood aside for the count. His opponent wasn’t getting up. Normally a fight wouldn’t last more than three minutes, but this one, after the initial hit hadn’t even lasted a minute. The referee counted to ten and Lucifer walked out the ring. He didn’t look at Sam and he didn’t look at Michael.


	10. Chapter 10

“He’s quite violent, isn’t he?” Prince Shurley asked. “Your man?” 

“Yes,” Sam agreed. He was worried though. Lucifer didn’t fight like Castiel. Castiel had a lot of grace because of his practice and training and there was something very by the rules about the way he fought. Lucifer fought more like the boys on the street. But Sam had never seen Lucifer be that brutal before.

“Looks like you won your bet,” Prince Shurley observed, looking over Sam’s shoulder. 

That was another mystery. As far as Sam knew none of the Shurley’s really liked fight houses. Sam had seen Gabriel Shurley from afar a few times when Sam first started coming to the fight houses. But that had been years before. It was like Michael Shurley had been waiting for him, almost. 

Sam knew that Michael didn’t like him or his family, so it truly confused him that Michael would want to sit next to him, or talk with him. Not that they’d exchanged many words. Michael told him that his brother Raphael had told him about Sam’s interest in medicine. Sam had responded by saying he liked to read a lot of various articles on a lot of various subjects. Michael had nodded and smiled in a way that hadn’t quiet reached his eyes. In fact he’d seemed distracted. 

Then Lucifer had come out and Michael focused completely. In fact it eerily reminded Sam of Lucifer’s unbreakable focus when he was analyzing an opponent or just watching Sam undress. For a moment Sam wondered if there had been a Lucifer in the archangel line up of names who had died as a child or something. 

“This should be a good match,” Prince Shurley had leaned over and whispered in his ear. 

Sam had only nodded. Lucifer had been looking at them and then he seemed to not be focused at all. Sam had felt fear flash through him when Lucifer’s opponent advanced on Lucifer and even hit him without Lucifer even seeming to see the other man. But then Lucifer had come back with such ferocity that Sam was even more worried. 

“I would like to speak with you, for a moment, if I may,” Prince Shurley said. Sam had stood up, and so had Prince Shurley. 

“I really should-” Sam started. 

“Lucifer will be okay for a few moments, but I’m afraid this is quite important.” 

“You talk about him so informally,” Sam said. He couldn’t help but narrow his eyes as he looked at Prince Shurley. 

“I will explain, if you will find us someplace we can talk.” 

Sam stared at Michael Shurley for a moment. He wanted to find Lucifer, but Sam had a feeling that if he let Michael go then something worse would happen. “Follow me,” Sam said. 

Sam guided Michael to one of the back ways that Lucifer preferred. They were almost always near deserted. Michael Shurley looked around with disdain in his eyes. Sam really didn’t like him. He was probably around John Winchester’s age and most likely to become king if Dean wasn’t selected. He had an older world kind of thought. Sam had heard his rhetoric and read his articles. He was the last person Sam wanted in the White House. 

“Has Lucifer told you yet?” Michael asked. 

“He’s told me a lot of things,” Sam said. “How am I supposed to know to what you’re referring?” 

“Well, he clearly hasn’t, or you’d know.” 

“Then how about you tell me,” Sam said. 

Michael sighed heavily. “I know you think I’m holding for applause, but I’m not. I’m actually worried for you. You’ve taken on someone very dangerous and you have no clue.” 

“I’d trust him even if he was a thief,” Sam said. “He’s never given me any reason to doubt.” 

“Only because he hasn’t told you the truth.” 

“What would that be?” Sam asked. “Did you fire him for theft, or flirting with the female servants too often?” 

“I didn’t fire him at all. When I knew him he was not a man whose services I could buy,”  
Michael said. Sam didn’t know why but the way Michael said those words filled him with a certain amount of dread. 

“Then how do you know him.” 

“Lucifer is my brother,” Michael said. 

“Bullshit,” Sam said. 

“It’s true,” Michael insisted. 

“It can’t be. He’s not close with Castiel at all. Everyone knows your family is very…” Sam stopped to search for a word. 

“Close?” Michael asked. 

“I was looking for inbred,” Sam snapped. 

“There’s no need to get testy. I’m only trying to warn you.” 

“Why would a Shurley from the main branch be working here? Was he a bastard?” 

“No, he was the legitimate second heir,” Michael said. 

“Was,” Sam echoed. 

“He was disinherited a number of years ago, Prince Winchester.” 

Sam stood in stunned silence. He looked around and saw no one. He listened and heard no approaching footsteps or breathing that did not belong. Finally he had to focus on Michael Shurley, who stood in front of him, as arrogant as ever. 

“You allowed your brother to be thrown out?” Sam hissed. 

“I didn’t allow, I did it,” Michael said. “I know you dislike the idea of having to let go of a family member, but it was necessary.” 

“Necessary for whom?” Sam demanded. 

“All of us. I love my brother, but he kept going too far. First he ran off to join the confederates. Then he came home and went to bed with any man or woman he could find,” Michael said. He glanced at Sam for some kind of confirmation which he apparently got because he suddenly looked even more grim. “He took money we set aside for one thing and put for something for himself: a new carriage, a new horse, a new apartment.” 

“That doesn’t sound like anything you disinherit a man for,” Sam said. 

“My brother is quite brilliant at reading people and playing them. I realized one day that he was reeling people in for some kind of scam. He had used our family business to clean dirty money, and had given money to people who squandered it. And he squandered it. But it was that last venture I could not tolerate. It wouldn’t just tarnish our family name, it could really hurt people. So I had him disinherited and thrown out.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Sam asked weakly. It was a lot to take in, the idea of Lucifer having once been in a position of even greater power than Sam, as well as the idea that Lucifer had hurt people with the wealth his family held. 

“The bible’s greatest sins are often brother against brother. I didn’t have much choice and I hoped that Lucifer would calm down and live his own life once he was free of temptation. But it turns out I was wrong. I imagine my brother is very driven by revenge.” 

“How can you tell? Have you even seen him since you threw him out?” Sam demanded. 

“His reaction when he saw me told me, as did you.” 

“Me?” 

“Prince Winchester, you are one of the most hard working, patient and well known men in the USAK. Any person who wins your affection would win great influence,” Michael said. 

“Are you insinuating that Lucifer wants to seduce me so he can get revenge on you?” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

“That’s preposterous,” Sam said. 

“Why?” Michael asked. “You two already have carnal relations.” 

Sam’s face went bright red. “How do you know that?” 

“Your face doesn’t tell lies, and you look at him like he hung the moon,” Michael said. 

“Do not,” Sam murmured, but he imagined that he probably did without realizing. 

“Prince, for all I know he has turned over a new leaf and is happy and quite in love with you. But if so, why would he hide this? Worse, why would he ask Castiel to hide it? True, Castiel is on the outside of our family but we are still close. I understand that your brother is close to Castiel and that Castiel is very loyal to your family. This is good. But ask yourself: why would Lucifer make Castiel keep his secret?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. 

“I do not want to hurt him,” Michael said. “But he is dangerous. My father liked the angels and likened us to them. But I’m afraid that Lucifer took the tale too much to heart.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t think naming your son Lucifer would work out well,” Sam said, bitterness in his voice. He could only think of the tender way he said Lucifer’s name that made the man’s eternal frown ease, or the way Missouri calling his name made Lucifer duck his shoulders like he feared a blow from one of Missouri’s wooden spoons. 

“Perhaps you can take it up with my father one day in Heaven, but for now there’s little I can do to change it,” Michael said. 

“How can you be certain?” 

“I can’t be. I want to be wrong,” Michael said. “I’d rather he be angry with me over telling you. Raphael told me early in the week and I took time to consider my course of action. I wasn’t certain if you knew. But I figured at worst it would be better if you did know the truth, even if I am completely wrong about my brother.” 

Sam went silent. The halls way seemed too small and too quiet, although Sam could hear the sound of people bustling about on the other side of the wall that separated them from the actual fight hall. Was Michael right? Was Lucifer just using him? Was Lucifer’s incredible focus a lie? Were his jokes just to endear himself to Sam? How much had Lucifer done to get in his good graces? Was that why Missouri and Lisa hadn’t wanted Lucifer to become entangled with Sam? Because on some level they suspected? Was that why Sam caught Castiel sometimes staring at Lucifer? 

“He wouldn’t do that,” Sam said. 

“I pray you are correct,” Michael said. “But I do know my brother. He is spoilt and vain and I did him no favors by constantly protecting him and defending him when we were boys. He is incredible good at manipulating people, even without lying. Tell me, does he know anything that could harm your family?” 

“Are you trying to blackmail me?” Sam asked, anger returning to his voice. 

“No, but I’m saying that you should assume, until you are certain, that any piece of information you have told my brother about yourself or your family is something he’ll have remembered and he will use against you at some point.” 

Sam’s teeth ground together. He wanted to punch Michael. He wanted to call him a liar and a slanderer and someone who wanted to harm his brother who he’d already tossed aside. But what said Michael made sense. It made too much sense. Sam knew he was attractive, but he’d always had people who wanted him for his power, and he’d never been a good judge of character. Well, he had been once, but God ended that relationship far too soon. 

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Sam said through his teeth. “Is there anything else?” 

Michael looked like he was actually thinking. Then he shook his head. “I have no more words.” 

“Then we’re done,” Sam said. He walked away, going to the medical wing to see how Lucifer’s opponent was. He needn’t have bothered, Lucifer stood outside looking like he was preparing for a blow. Sam decided that he didn’t actually want to know about the opponent at all. 

“Highness,” Lucifer said when Sam came to stand in front of him. Lucifer was leaned back against the wall and so seemed shorter than normal. 

“Don’t say anything,” Sam said. Lucifer had opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut. “Come,” he ordered.


	11. Chapter 11

Lucifer felt like he was Sam’s dog and he didn’t like it. Lucifer had needed to make money some way before when he was first thrown out and had only the money in his pocket and nothing else to his name. Crowley had stumbled upon him after three months of Lucifer living on the streets. Those memories were some of Lucifer’s most painful. He swore to himself that he’d never allow himself to feel like that again; like someone owned him. 

But he felt like that now. He hadn’t tried to say a word. A part of him just wanted Sam to fire him instead of this lingering. He thought maybe Sam wanted to watch him pack, which Lucifer found to be sadistic, especially since Sam wasn’t telling him he was fired. Lucifer wasn’t speaking because he was afraid Sam would fire him if he snapped some kind of sarcastic remark. 

Sam got out of the carriage and Lucifer followed. “Missouri!” Sam shouted. Lucifer had heard Sam shout before, but never at Missouri. 

“What are you shouting about?” Missouri asked. 

“Is anyone else home?” Sam asked. 

“Just me. You’re back early.” 

“I need you to go out for a few hours. Go see a play or something. I’ll pay, I just need the house,” Sam said. Lucifer felt his stomach drop. What in the world would Sam need everyone to be gone for? 

Missouri looked between them. Lucifer imagined that his aura was tinged with guilt or something because she looked at him for an exceeding long time. “Alright. I’ll come back in time to fix dinner, but it should give you at least three hours. Dean and Lisa and Ben won’t be back until dinner.” 

“Thank you,” Sam said. 

Lucifer stood with Sam while Missouri went to fetch her coat, hat and bag and left the house. It took far too long for Lucifer’s nerves. But the second she was gone Lucifer wished she’d stayed. He looked at Sam through his eye lashes, part because he knew Sam liked it and part because he wasn’t certain it was okay to be caught looking at him. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sam said. “You’re not flirting your way out of this.” 

“Maybe it would help if I knew what this was,” Lucifer said. He spoke quietly and even respectfully. 

“Your brother came to speak with me. I didn’t know I had the pleasure of addressing an FFV,” Sam said mocking a bow. Lucifer grimaced. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucifer said. 

“Doesn’t matter? You lying to me doesn’t matter?” Sam demanded. He’d been speaking with some modicum of calm, but that was gone now. 

“Michael would have told you I’m disinherited. I don’t have my name anymore and no one calls my Shurley. Milton is who I am now,” he said. He added a bite to his voice. It still hurt. The hurt had never gone away or faded. It just became righteous anger. 

“He told me a lot of things,” Sam said. “He seems to think you planned to seduce me and use me. Is this true?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. Maybe he could lie, but Sam might not believe him. And Lucifer never liked lying to Sam. He’d never liked lying since his mother used to give him one hell of a whipping for it when he was a kid. But he always felt especially uncomfortable lying to Sam. Sam Winchester was good, and Lucifer felt uncomfortable with the idea of ruining Sam’s ability to trust others. Thought he’d never been uncomfortable enough to walk away. 

Sam smiled, but it was accompanied by clear hurt and a bitter laugh. “Just like that. You say it just like that. Like your promise means something. You promised not to lie to me.” 

“I lied,” Lucifer said. He’d only ever promised to not lie if he could help it, but it didn’t matter. He knew he would lie to Sam. Sam had reason to be hurt.

“Then why aren’t you lying now?” Sam demanded. He sounded near hysterical. Lucifer knew how much Sam worshipped him. Worshipped was the word too. He looked at Lucifer’s body reverently and kissed him just the same. Lucifer closed his eyes because he couldn’t stand to see Sam look even a little broken.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “Because it would defeat the purpose. You know already.” 

“Look at me,” Sam demanded. Lucifer opened his eyes automatically. He took a sharp breath in through his nose, suddenly remembering his time before he became a fighter. Lucifer wondered when he’d become the kind of man who would follow an order. 

“I lied to you as little as I could, though I left out a great deal,” Lucifer admitted. 

“Because the truth made it easier?” Sam asked.

“Truth is easier to remember than a lie. But I didn’t do it because of that. I’m good at remembering what I said. I didn’t want to lie to you because I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I knew I would already.” 

Sam laughed again, and it sounded brittle. Lucifer grimaced at the sound. He wanted Sam to stop. He wanted to jump ahead to when Sam forgave him. That thought jolted through Lucifer. Sam Winchester wasn’t going to forgive him. This wasn’t something that men forgave. When he left this house he would likely never see Sam Winchester again. 

“Why would you bother with that? To allow yourself to believe you were a good person?” 

“No, I know I’m not,” Lucifer said. He tried to keep his voice calm like a counter point to Sam’s hysterical shift from near shouting to low and quiet and angry. 

“Then why?” Sam demanded. 

“I can’t explain it to, Sam,” Lucifer said. “Not in a way you would appreciate.” 

“Don’t,” Sam said. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Alright, Highness,” Lucifer said. It hurt. Of course he deserved the hurt. But Lucifer hurt to lose that intimacy of acquaintance with Sam. 

“What do you mean I wouldn’t appreciate?” 

“You’re a good man. You were interested in me but never tried to force yourself on me. I didn’t want to reward your kindness so badly,” Lucifer said. 

“That’s not real,” Sam said. He leaned in as he spoke, getting closer to Lucifer but not in Lucifer’s face or even all that close. “You told me you wouldn’t lie to me the first day we agreed on the contract. You didn’t know what I was like then, so why?” 

Lucifer opened his mouth and then shut it. He couldn’t answer because he honestly didn’t know. He could look in with deep introspection but he didn’t have the time for that type of searching. He finally just shrugged.

“I should never have allowed you to live here,” Sam said. 

“Are you going to fire me?” Lucifer finally asked. He was tired of being yelled at. This, their relationship, was over already. He just wanted it to be done. 

“No,” Sam said. 

“No?” Lucifer asked with shock. 

“I can’t fire you,” Sam said. “Because I’m an idiot who told you on the first day about my brother. Michael warned me about you. He asked me if you knew anything that we kept as a secret. He told me you would catalogue everything to use against us.” 

“You think I would blackmail you?” Lucifer demanded. He felt angry and yet hollow. 

“I don’t know what you would do. But I know I’m not going to hurt my brother because of my mistake.” 

“I would never-” Lucifer started. 

“You’re a liar who climbed into my bed in the hopes I could give you enough influence that you could have your revenge, forget what happens to me.” Sam was furious. But Lucifer was furious too. 

“I would not tell on your brother, Sam Winchester,” Lucifer snapped. “I would not tell because Castiel is my family too. In fact he is my only family. I used to have brothers. I had three. I found out recently that one has been married for some time and is expecting. Castiel is the only one who would speak to me. I may not care for your brother but I would never let Castiel get hurt.” 

“Liar,” Sam hissed. “How can I ever trust anything you say?” 

Lucifer grabbed the lapels of Sam’s jacket. He was angry. But he knew that particular type of anger, the type of anger when someone insulted you by telling you the truth. Lucifer wanted to punch Sam. Instead he carefully sunk to his knees at Sam’s feet, sliding his hands down the fabric of Sam’s suit as he went. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked quietly. 

“I won’t hurt my cousin. I won’t do it. Please, if you don’t believe anything, believe that I love him enough to want him to be happy. And he is happy. My father was a terrible man. His sister ran off with a man who got her pregnant and left. My father wouldn’t give her any money and barely accepted her son anywhere near us or any of the other cousins.” 

“Castiel is a bastard?” Sam asked, sounding shaken. 

“And he’s terrified that your brother will find out and not want him anymore. Which is preposterous,” Lucifer said. “You brother is loyal to his family, and Castiel is as much his husband as Lisa is his wife. I would not be like my father, not for anything in the world. Not for my own soul.” 

Sam looked down at Lucifer. Lucifer wasn’t certain Sam believed him, but he made no moves to get up or put himself in a better position. Lucifer’s hands had fisted in the fabric of Sam’s pants. His grip tightened when Sam didn’t say anything. 

“How would your plan have gone?” Sam asked. His voice sounded dead. 

“I would seduce you, make you need me and want me and then I would ask for favors from small to large until I was in a place where I could tear Michael down for all to see,” Lucifer said. It sounded divine to him, even in the middle of their fight. 

“That sounds very vague,” Sam said. 

“It would have worked,” Lucifer insisted. 

“What?” Sam asked with a smile and a sharp sort of humor in his voice. “If I hadn’t found out?” 

“No,” Lucifer said. “If you’d been someone else it would have worked.” 

“Why would I have needed to be someone else?” Sam asked. He sounded hesitant and curious. 

“I didn’t expect your kindness,” Lucifer nearly whispered. “You weren’t supposed to care about me. I didn’t want to care about you.” 

“Please, Lucifer, stop lying to me,” Sam said. 

“I have nothing to lose now,” Lucifer said. “Why would I lie?” 

“In the hopes of salvaging your plan.” 

“The plan’s wrecked, and has been for a while,” Lucifer said. He looked away, looked down at his hands. “I spent months on the streets after I got thrown out. Men like someone who’s desperate enough to do anything for a few coins. And I was desperate. I thought any noble I served would be like those men. But you have never, until today, made me feel like I was less than you.” 

“When did I make you feel like that?” Sam asked. The worry in his voice cut Lucifer practically in two. Sam wasn’t supposed to care about him.

“When you told me not to speak,” Lucifer said softly. Sam bent down some so he could look Lucifer in the eyes, so Lucifer tilted his head up to see Sam as well. “I’m not a dog, Sam. Don’t make me feel like one.” 

“I told you not to call me that anymore,” Sam said, very matter of fact. 

“I know,” Lucifer said. “Will you hit me?” 

“I wanted to, but I won’t,” Sam said. A dark smiled passed over his face. “Who knew this was how I’d get you down on your knees.” 

“You only had to ask,” Lucifer said. He braced himself on Sam’s legs and made to get up.

“No, stay,” Sam said. Lucifer stopped mid-motion and slowly sunk back down. He looked up feeling concerned that he didn’t feel so concerned. 

“Are you actually not going to fire me?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam said. “Though you’re not welcome in my bed anymore,” he breathed. Yet despite that he grabbed Lucifer by his ears and dragged him into a kiss. Lucifer relented. He knew what it was: a goodbye. 

“I’ll be good,” Lucifer breathed. It had been years since he’d let those words pass his lips as anything but a joke. 

“Up,” Sam said, hauling him up. “Come,” he added. He grabbed Lucifer’s wrist and began to drag him upstairs toward his room. 

Lucifer followed Sam up, shutting the door behind him. Sam started to tear at his clothes. Lucifer relented, but didn’t help. If he had tried Sam would have batted his hands away. Lucifer could see barely contained anger on Sam’s face, but he didn’t try to shut his eyes again.

“Get in bed,” Sam said once he’d removed everything from Lucifer’s body.

Lucifer did as he was told. Sam began to undress, his motions quick and angry. Lucifer became aware of the throb in his side from the punch he’d received. It didn’t matter much. Lucifer didn’t plan to bring it up, in any case. He didn’t want Sam to look at him with worried eyes again.

Once Sam was bare he shut the curtains. It wasn’t likely that someone would see them, but they weren’t taking chances. If Lucifer had been thinking he would have shut them immediately upon entering. Sam climbed into bed and pushed Lucifer down. His mouth found Lucifer’s, his hands cupping Lucifer’s face.

Lucifer stroked Sam’s side. They weren’t light touches. He wanted to feel Sam’s solidness. Sam slipped one hand off Lucifer’s face, beginning to travel down Lucifer’s body. The touch wasn’t soft either. It was like Sam was trying to absorb him. Lucifer assumed that Sam’s hand was heading between Lucifer’s leg, but it stopped on his side. It took Lucifer a moment to realize that he’d gasped. Sam jerked away. He had that worried look in his eyes again. Lucifer slapped both of his hands over Sam’s eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Lucifer snarled. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.” When he dropped his hands Sam’s eyes were cold. Lucifer breathed a sigh of relief. Sam’s hand went back to its journey, grasping Lucifer tight, tight enough that there was some actual pain. But Sam didn’t look at Lucifer with worried eyes. Sam nibbled along Lucifer’s jaw as he began to stroke him.

Lucifer grasped Sam’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the flesh. He wanted to leave blood and scars. He wanted them there for Sam to explain to whatever young thing he married. He wanted Sam to bite him and leave a scar that wouldn’t fade. He wanted Sam to punch him and leave a bruise. As forceful as Sam’s hands and kisses were, it never hurt like Lucifer expected. It was angry, yes, but Sam never stopped being careful with him.

Sam ended up asleep on top of Lucifer, which was probably the most uncomfortable part of the whole experience, having a large man crushing some of the air from his lungs. But Lucifer made no moves to squirm out from under Sam.

It’s just angry sex, it’s not forgiveness, he told himself. Still, Sam looked as peaceful as ever, asleep against him. Lucifer lightly pressed his fingers into Sam’s hair. He just stroked the sweat matted locks until Sam shifted. All Sam did was pull Lucifer tighter to him. But Lucifer didn’t want to risk Sam waking and tossing him out so soon.

There were a few stray hairs in Sam’s face. Lucifer brushed them away with a firm hand, knowing Sam would be less likely to wake up from a firm touch than a gentle tickle. Sam slept on. Lucifer pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead. No one could see him and accuse him of sentimentality.


	12. Chapter 12

Lucifer wasn’t surprised by the sudden change. That didn’t mean that he liked it. Everything was exactly the same except no one spoke to him. Even Ben didn’t speak to him and Lucifer wasn’t certain if Ben even knew what he’d done or simply picked up on everyone else’s hatred of him.

Lucifer woke at the same time every day, went to the kitchen to wait for Sam, where Missouri would treat him like he wasn’t there. He supposed that was better than her trying to poison him. He said as such once and she told him she wouldn’t destroy good food out of spite. It made him feel better for reasons he couldn’t explain.

He went with Sam to work, still ran Sam’s errands and still protected him. He still went to social functions. Sam even still bet on him in fights. But they didn’t speak. It wasn’t even the humorous kind of not speaking like in stage shows where one person spoke to another through other people, when the two characters who weren’t speaking were on stage.

Little things killed him. Lucifer had been quietly whining to Sam for months about a play he wanted to see. Sam had gotten Lucifer tickets at some point, probably before the argument. But Sam still took him. Lucifer couldn’t remember laughing so hard at any play before in his life. And Sam laughed along with him.

Lucifer had to sit down on the stairs of the bank when he went to cash his paycheck like he did every month and found that it was exactly as much as it always was. As he stared at his receipt, Lucifer had pondered if Sam continued to be kind to him out of spite or just because it was who he was. He finally decided on a little bit of both. Sam could be amazingly petty when he wanted to be, but he and Lucifer had a contract and Sam didn’t want Lucifer out of his sights for long.

As proof of that fact, Sam would stare at Lucifer if he was ever gone too long on his days off. He normally took to a park, or a library just to be out of the house for a few hours. Tension was high for all of them when it came to him.

When December came Lucifer was looking forward to the holiday like getting teeth pulled. He had never liked Christmas celebrations since he was a child. He liked the Christmas services and songs, but he’d hated the parties his parents had attended and left their children behind for. He hated the mountain of presents like it made up for them being gone. He hated that his siblings would avoid him during Christmas because they didn’t want to catch his bad mood.

Then the messenger came. His words were simple: “Your Grandfather’s very ill. They sent carriages. Everyone is requested.”

Lucifer barely had time to pack a bag before everyone was loaded into the carriage. Lisa and Castiel sat on either side of Dean and that never changed the entire time they were at the White House. Ben and Sam paced. Lucifer watched from the corner, keeping his eyes on the secret service men who eyed Castiel and Dean too closely.

Lucifer had never met Mary or John Winchester, but Mary dragged him into a hug just like she did the others. She wouldn’t let him sit away from the others as they sat around telling stories. Lucifer just listened because he’d never met the King before. But John told about his parents’ closeness and Mary told about the first time she’d met King Henry and how he’d hugged her and kissed her cheeks. Dean told about sitting on his grandfather’s knee every Christmas when King Henry dressed as Santa Claus.

“He told me that I was the sweetest woman he’d ever seen,” Lisa said, nearly finished with her story about how afraid she was of the king finding out the number of lover’s she had. “He told me that he liked me because Dean liked me, and to hang the rest.”   
“Henry bought my mother,” Missouri said.

“I didn’t know that,” John said. He was holding Mary’s hand.

“I’d run away and was just trying to get by. Someone recommended me to work in the White House. You remember of course,” she said with a wry smile.

“Of course,” John said. 

“I don’t know how he figured it out, but he bought my momma from our old plantation. She was so sick, but she wanted to see Washington.”

“Is that why you disappeared for a month?” John asked.

“You father made certain my mother had a room with a view. He came to her funeral, dressed like a common man, and held my hand the entire time,” she said quietly. “I had never been more alone in my life, but he didn’t let me be alone.”

“Is that why you stayed?” Lucifer asked. He hadn’t expected the words to come out of his mouth. Everyone that lived in the house with him looked at him. Clearly none of them thought he belonged in their circle.

“I stayed because Johnny was a sweet but stupid boy who would have had someone kill him if I didn’t keep that from happening,” Missouri said. They dissolved into laughter.

“Thank you, so much,” John said dryly.

“Sirs, ladies,” a servant came. “It’s time.”

They filed out, one by one, going to speak with Henry Winchester for a few moments before returning to wait. Then all of them went for the signing of the King’s final proclamation. The proclamation was a tradition going back to their second King, John Adams. He was the one decide that a King’s last words carried a special weight. And so while the laws they created were not technically permanent, they were much harder to strike down.

Lucifer didn’t go to this event. He stayed in the living room and waited. The family and close friends and clerks and a few other politicians would be there to witness the final proclamation, whatever it should be.

For years King Henry had been their family’s greatest enemy. Lucifer remembered hating him as a child because his father would have been King if Henry hadn’t stolen it from him. He had to laugh at himself for his own stupidity. 

“Lucifer,” Sam said. Lucifer jumped. Sam hadn’t actually said his name since the day Michael told Sam who he was.

“Do you need something?” Lucifer asked.

“I’m heading to bed and I want you to check my closet for nightmares,” Sam said.

“Of course, sir,” Lucifer said. Sam seemed brittle and very breakable. Lucifer didn’t want to be the one to break him.

Lucifer followed Sam to the bedroom Sam was staying in at the White House. Lucifer had seen more impressive mansions, but there was something special about the place. Maybe it was the sense of wonder he had always felt for the place even since he was a child and dreamed about living there one day. Or maybe it was how at ease the Winchesters seemed in the place.

“This used to be my room,” Sam said. He quietly shut the door behind them.

“It’s nice,” Lucifer said.

“I bet yours was nicer,” Sam said.

“Possibly,” Lucifer said. He wasn’t certain. He didn’t like to think of the Shurley mansion in Virginia.

“My grandfather’s dead,” Sam said.

“I assumed,” Lucifer said quietly. “Highness, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t!” Sam said sharply. “Just don’t.”

Lucifer had just expected to shut up and that be the end of it. Sam hadn’t said anything to him in weeks, but now they were having a conversation. Lucifer knew death did funny things to people. When his father died Michael had grabbed Lucifer by the neck and thrown him bodily from the funeral home, telling Lucifer to never return, that he was no longer one of them.

Perhaps Lucifer should have been paying attention because Sam’s mouth was suddenly on his, and Sam’s hand was fumbling with the button’s on Lucifer’s pants. Everything switched off in Lucifer’s brain for a moment. After Lucifer had woken alone in Sam’s bed he hadn’t expected any kind of touch anymore.

Lucifer’s brain didn’t switch on again until Sam was one his knees in front of him, and Lucifer pants were nearly open. Then he grabbed Sam’s hair. He twisted, forcing Sam’s head up so he could look him in the eyes.

“Sam, stop,” he said.

“You’re ordering me now?” Sam said with a laugh.

“You hate me,” Lucifer said. “In the morning you will likely have me killed for taking advantage of you.”

“I’m not some woman,” Sam snapped.

“No, but your grandfather just died,” Lucifer hissed.

“I know,” Sam said darkly. He tightly gripped Lucifer’s hips until Lucifer felt serious pain. “I want to forget.”

“No,” Lucifer said.

“No?” Sam demanded with a laugh. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Me giving into you? Just let me do as I wish. I promise you’ll enjoy it,” he said, nuzzling against the inner portion of Lucifer’s hip. Lucifer’s body responded with approval.

“No,” Lucifer said, pulling Sam’s head away from him again. He forced Sam to look at him. “If you do this it will be against my will.”

“Are you accusing me of rape?” Sam demanded, sounding incredulous.

“It will be if you continue,” Lucifer said.

“Fine,” Sam said coldly. He pushed away from Lucifer, getting up. “You’re not wanted.”

Lucifer knew his cue, regardless that walking down the hall half hard was uncomfortable and humiliating. Everyone was too busy being in a bother because the King was dead. Lucifer wanted to go back into Sam’s room and try to soothe him, but he knew his presence was not welcome. He didn’t want Sam to wake up in the morning with guilt or regret.

He still wanted to kick himself when he got to his room. His body wanted to be back with Sam. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed Sam’s touches. Lucifer flopped down on his bed, groaning as he went. He’d seen a lot of Sam, but only for a short period of time. Lucifer didn’t honestly remember being affected like he was now. 

“You’ve got on in years, old man,” he said to himself. He kicked his clothes off, letting them drop into a pile on the floor before he tried to sleep. He knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily. He got to sleep quickly enough, but he woke up every twenty minutes or so, imagining how the night would have gone if he hadn’t said no. Or the next morning. Either way he was too turned on and too worried to sleep much. When he saw the sun was rising he finally got up and got dressed, heading for the family kitchen. 

He wasn’t at all surprised to see Missouri already awake and making bacon. He was surprised to see Sam awake and talking to her in a low voice. Lucifer hesitated for a moment, considering going back to his room rather than deal with Sam Winchester that early. But Sam seemed to notice that he and Missouri were no longer alone. He turned around, seeing Lucifer. The look on Sam’s face was thunderous. Lucifer didn’t take a step back, but he’d heavily considered it. 

“I’ll go see if Mom or Dad are up yet,” Sam said and walked out. He brushed past Lucifer but didn’t actually touch him. 

Lucifer slunk to the table, sitting down and laying his head on it. It was still too soon for Sam not to be angry at him, apparently. Though Lucifer was more than glad he’d chosen as he had. Sam probably would have had him actually killed if they’d woken up next to each other. Of course, if he had said yes, they’d probably both he still asleep. 

“You’re down this morning,” Missouri said. Lucifer didn’t have the energy to jump from surprise. She’d spoken to him at least a little bit over the past month. 

“Isn’t everyone?” Lucifer asked. 

“Sam’s particularly angry at you this morning,” Missouri said. 

“I stopped him from doing something stupid last night,” Lucifer said. He didn’t bother to raise his head off the table. 

“What?” she asked all too innocently. He bet she knew and just wanted him to admit it. 

“Me,” Lucifer grumbled. 

“Why would he do a stupid thing like that?” she asked. 

Lucifer smiled. “Exactly.” He said and sat up. He looked at her, trying to not too obviously sniff the air. “He would regret it today, wouldn’t he?” 

“I imagine he would,” Missouri said. “You hurt him.” 

“I know I did,” Lucifer said. He closed his eyes and just wished that Sam would fire him and let them both go away from each other. He was tired of Sam’s hurt look every time Lucifer walked into his view. Sam didn’t mask it was well as he thought he did. 

Missouri was silent, but she was watching him. Lucifer hadn’t even realized because he’d been off in his thoughts. He knew he used to be more alert than that, even a month ago he would have noticed that someone was watching him. 

“Yes?” Lucifer asked. 

“I’m surprised,” Missouri said, speaking to him gently for the first time in a month. “I didn’t realize how much you loved Sam.” 

“What?” Lucifer asked, jerking away from the table and nearly falling off his chair. 

“Did you not know?” Missouri asked, looking torn between sadness and amusement. 

“Please, this is not a funny joke,” Lucifer said. 

“Here I thought your being out of sorts was just guilt, no wonder you seemed unusually down for a man who’d had his con blown.” 

“I take it you’ve seen a lot of con men lose?” Lucifer snapped. 

“Yes, I’m very good at noticing. Why do you think I’m still employed here?” 

“Because you’re family?” Lucifer suggested. Missouri’s smile eased something in his heart. It felt like forgiveness. 

“I’d wondered why I hadn’t figured you out for what you were. Turns out you were busy falling hard for Sam as well.” 

“I am not in love with him,” Lucifer said with gritted teeth. Love was supposed to be like in books where it was all consuming. Lucifer had never felt that, just a sense of companionship that was gone, and a good amount of lust once they got to that point. 

“Why did you turn Sam down last night?” 

“Because I didn’t want to be beheaded at dawn,” Lucifer snapped. Missouri gave him a patient look and Lucifer sighed. He actually started to think about it. 

He remembered being a little happy that Sam wanted to talk to him, though he couldn’t imagine what Sam wanted to talk to him about. The kiss hadn’t been nice, it set off something uncomfortable in his stomach. But Sam on his knees had made Lucifer really want. But Sam had looked so tired and lost. 

“I didn’t want him to wake up in the morning and look like he’d lost even more,” Lucifer said quietly. The idea that Sam would feel violated and hurt even more made Lucifer’s stomach clench. 

“And?” Missouri pressed. 

“And I don’t deserve to be treated like that,” Lucifer snapped. The anger surprised him. “I’m not a weapon to be used against him. I’m not a dog who’ll do as his master orders. I’m not a convenient whore he can take to bed. I don’t want him to think that I’m only there because I lust after him, or just want my own body’s wants. I don’t want him down on his knees because he thinks he can bribe me with pleasure. I don’t want it.” 

Missouri’s smile was sad. Lucifer was breathing hard. His voice had gotten loud. He hadn’t been shouting, but he’d no longer been speaking in the soft tone he’d come in with. He covered his hands with his eyes just so that he couldn’t look at her. He hated that she was right. 

He wanted to go back to a month before. Hell, he wanted to go back to before Sam even spoke to him and wanted to just want Sam. He wanted to be thrilled when Sam looked at him not just because it meant his plan was working. He wanted to play his game to wait until Sam made his move with happiness for the hunt and impatience because he wanted Sam too. He wanted to go back to the day Michael spoke to Sam and be able to shout his anger at Michael screwing his life up again. Sam would have accepted it and held him and let him rage. Sam would have accepted it even if it was a lie. Sam hadn’t wanted the truth to be real. But Lucifer hadn’t wanted to lie to Sam anymore. 

He dropped his hands when a plate slipped under his nose with a few strips of bacon on them. He looked up at Missouri and smiled. “Thank you,” he said, picking of a piece and chewing. 

“It’s a hard day for everyone,” Missouri said. “I’m glad for a happier distraction.” Lucifer laughed bitterly. Only after a death could his predicament be seen as happy. 

The election would be held in February, which would give everyone plenty of time to get registered and vote. The news of the King’s death had gone out last night, no doubt. Elections were always a mess because they weren’t done that often. Noble votes counted more than the common man’s and there were always counting errors. It didn’t help that basically any person could be voted for, though candidates had basically been being presented their whole life. While there were some outside candidates, it would probably come down to Michael, John or Dean. 

“Was there any news from last night?” Lucifer asked. He had no idea what happened after everyone went for the final proclamation. 

“John told us that he wouldn’t be running, that he and King decided it would be best. That news will probably go out some time today,” she said. 

“Smart move,” Lucifer said. Dean was only in his thirties, even if he only lived to his seventies that was still forty years more of a Winchester reign. 

“What about you?” Missouri asked. 

“What about me?” Lucifer asked. 

“Your voting status?” she asked. 

“Ah… hmmm,” Lucifer said. “I don’t know, I’ll have to get that checked out, won’t I?” he asked. “Though, would it be bad if I end up revealing myself?” 

“You mean for Sam, or for you?” She asked. 

“Michael already knows where I am, what worse can happen to me?” 

“You know about the king’s proclamation, right?” she asked. 

“No, I’ve no clue,” Lucifer said. 

“He overturned the sodomy laws,” Missouri said. “It’s now very legal for Dean and Castiel to be together, as well as you and Sam.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer said because he couldn’t think of what else to say. He hadn’t known that at all. “Did he know?” he asked. 

“Probably,” Missouri admitted. “He was very good at finding out things about people. He probably knew about you before the rest of us did.” Lucifer couldn’t help the blush that colored his cheeks. 

“That was all he did? Get rid of the sodomy laws?” he asked. 

“Well, it was more than that. He didn’t allow changes to marriages, but he said that it was common sense that people could do what they wanted in their own homes, and since relationships carried out from one place to the rest of a person’s life, that people should be able to love who they wanted without fear of others harming them.” 

“Not just legal, given legal protection,” Lucifer breathed. It stunned him, because only something like that could only be okay with a final proclamation. No one could fight Henry on it. “He really wants Dean to be King, doesn’t he?” 

“Dean’s got a good heart. He cares about people and he likes people who aren’t nobles. Yes, he plays the part of a noble man, but Henry wasn’t a noble, not until he was elected King, and Dean is only a prince because of Henry’s victory.” 

“I know,” Lucifer said. He remembered his father’s angry railing against that nothing man accountant. 

“Dean is more like Henry than John is,” Missouri continued. “He’ll do well.” 

“I know he will,” Lucifer said. “I want him to win. Not just because I don’t want Michael to win. Michael is just like our father, and very conservative. We’ve had a long era of change and Dean is much more progressive than Michael,” he explained. “I don’t think my brother would be a good leader.” 

“You do speak personally,” Missouri said. 

“I think that if Sam did what I did that Dean would never throw him out and make him live on the streets. I think Dean would have talked to Sam instead of going behind his back to tell on him. I think that I don’t want someone in power who believes it’s owed to him. I love Michael, as much as I hate him I still love him. But he’s never been anyone I would follow. I don’t like Dean Winchester at all, but I would follow him to the end.” 

“That’s a nice vote of confidence,” Dean said, walking in behind Lucifer. He reached around to take one of Lucifer’s strips of bacon, only for Lucifer to strike his hand. 

“I earned those, get your own,” Lucifer said. 

“Missouri,” Dean whined. 

“Calm down, I’m getting yours,” Missouri said. 

Dean dropped into the seat next to Lucifer. “What did you do to make Sam so pissy this morning?” 

“I told him no,” Lucifer said.

“No to what?” Dean asked. 

“Sex,” Lucifer said. 

“I didn’t need to hear that,” Dean said, covering his ears. 

“You asked me,” Lucifer pointed out. 

“Wait, are you two back together?” Dean demanded. “Because-”

“We’re not,” Lucifer said. “Nor do I imagine we ever will be. He was looking to destroy himself, which is why I told him no.” 

“So to be clear, you were trying to protect my little brother,” Dean said. 

“That is what I am paid to do,” Lucifer said. 

“But you wouldn’t turn him away if he just came to you because he wanted to.” 

“Your brother is a very attractive man, so no, I wouldn’t throw him out of bed.” 

“Why am I having this conversation?” Dean asked. 

“Because you keeping asking questions, and I don’t care if you want to destroy yourself,” Lucifer said. 

“What happened to you following me to the ends of the earth?” Dean demanded. 

“It’s purely in plane of imaginary existence, whereby you were leading a battle, which you wouldn’t be, and we’d probably all get shot because of it,” Lucifer said. 

“But you would follow me into a battle where we’re all about to die,” Dean pointed out. Lucifer grimaced, especially because Dean looked so thoughtful. 

“Unfortunately, I believe so,” Lucifer said. 

“Dean,” Missouri said, slipping the plate of bacon, along with eggs and hash browns under Dean’s nose, and a second plate with the rest of breakfast to Lucifer. “How are you doing?” 

“The assholes on the hill want to send Grandpa’s body to all the states like they did when Senator Lincoln was shot,” Dean said. “They’re angry that I told them no, that we’re going to have him cremated and that people can come see his monument once it’s finished, which shouldn’t be too far from now anyway.” 

“Politicians want what looks best for them,” Lucifer said. “Speaking of, have you considered your campaign yet?” 

“Not you too,” Dean grumbled. 

“I’m telling you that Michael is ruthless when it comes to what he wants. I’m also telling you that my father told us that your grandfather stole the position from him. Michael may not be as extreme as my father, but he is very close. You need to consider the fact that he will do anything to strike you down, and that means there will be an investigation into why your grandfather picked his final proclamation as he did, especially when he was able to muscle through the 13th, 14th, and 15th, amendment while he was still alive.” 

Dean’s face went a bit blank. “What are you saying, exactly?” 

“I’m saying that for the next few months you need to be a heterosexual as possible, and if people suggest your grandfather had a lover you need to not get angry about it,” Lucifer said. 

Dean bristled. “He was completely loyal to our grandmother,” he said. 

“I’m not saying he wasn’t,” Lucifer said. “But she did die a few years ago, maybe he found comfort in the arms of a man. Or maybe he wanted to, but would not break the law, so he made it so others wouldn’t have to.” 

“But he wouldn’t,” Dean said. 

“Dean,” Missouri broke in, “does that last part sound like something your grandfather would do? Want to make the world better for people for what he himself couldn’t achieve?” 

“He did have a lot of laws helping the common man over the aristocracy in his early years. He pissed a lot of people off, and spent the rest of his time having to smooth things over,” Lucifer pointed out.

“I don’t want people to make up lies about him,” Dean said. 

“Then tell that that you don’t believe he was interested in anyone beyond your grandmother once she died, that it hurt too much, and that you believe he would never cheat on her and that you’ve based your relationship with Lisa on him,” Lucifer said. “But also remind people that your grandfather would go after things he saw as wrong with all his might.” 

“The women’s groups will be surprised he didn’t use this to allow women’s suffrage,” Missouri pointed out. 

“Possibly because he believed it was inevitable and that Dean would force it through,” Lucifer said. 

“But why me?” Dean asked. 

“Honestly, you’ve got a lot more years that you can be in charge,” Lucifer said. “I think that was important to your grandfather. People like him and they like you a lot.” 

“My father,” Dean protested. 

“Is a good man,” Missouri said. “He led armies. He’s a brilliant military leader, but he’s never had the temper for long meetings that you’ve always enjoyed. You take more after your mother and your grandfather. Your father will make a good advisor, but you’re the one who will continue your grandfather’s legacy.” 

“And possibly surpass it,” Lucifer added. 

Dean went silent, looking down at his breakfast which he hadn’t touched in several minutes. That reminded Lucifer to take a few bites while Dean thought. He hadn’t ever spoken with Dean like this before. But Lucifer knew he had value. If Dean was a politician’s kid, than Lucifer was like a kid specifically grown to be a politician. 

“My grandfather passed that law so I wouldn’t have to lie anymore,” Dean said. “Cas is my partner. I know how he looks at himself, like he’s the expendable piece, but he’s not.” 

“Dean,” Lucifer said. He reached out and grabbed Dean’s hand. Dean eyed their hands for a minute before meeting Lucifer’s eyes. “If you tell now then there’s no way you will be King. I can almost promise you that. There will not be enough time for damage control. Let them wonder for these few months. Give them a scapegoat, your grandfather, or Sam, or Missouri, hell, give them me, I don’t care. Don’t lie, but don’t be truthful. The day of your inauguration you tell everyone about Castiel. But just wait until then.” 

“That’s a long time,” Dean said. 

“It will be longer if Michael wins. He won’t be able to repeal it instantly, but give him ten, twenty years and he will, and then all the people who have been living openly in homosexual relationships will suddenly be fodder. If you want to keep your relationship, if you want to protect your brother or Castiel you will do this.” 

Dean went silent again. Lucifer tightened his grip on Dean’s hand and refused to break eye contact with him. Finally Dean sighed. “So are you my campaign manager now?” 

Lucifer felt a knot ease in his chest and a light giddiness flood him. “No, but I’m a consultant. I mean, who better to tell you about your enemy?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Is this part of your revenge scheme?” 

“I wouldn’t have voted for Michael even before what happened. When I started to think for myself my father’s politics started to make me uncomfortable, and Michael tries so hard to be like our father, though he lacks the conviction our father did, which makes it worse.” 

“So, not a revenge scheme?” 

“Honest worry for my country’s future, with a side of revenge that just makes it better,” Lucifer explained. 

Dean laughed and finally pulled his hand away. “Okay, you win.” 

“Nice that someone sees it my way,” Lucifer said. He went back to his bacon. 

“So, did you really try to cheat people out of their money?” Dean suddenly asked. Lucifer chocked. 

“Here, drink something,” Missouri said, putting a cup of tea in front of Lucifer. Lucifer sipped it, only lightly scalding his tongue, but it did clear his throat. 

“So?” Dean asked. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “Michael didn’t lie about what I planned to do before he threw me out.” 

“Damn,” Dean muttered. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know. I sort of hoped that he’d just made that part up.” 

“I’m not a good man, Dean Winchester. I haven’t been in many years. I have done things I regret and probably will continue to do so for all of my life. Once this election ends, I expect to be right back to where I was.” 

“You know Sam’s not just going to let you out of your contract,” Missouri said. 

“Then I’ll stay until my contract’s up, at which point I’ll be back to where I was,” Lucifer said. “There’s no reason to keep me around once everything comes out.” 

Dean looked at him until Lucifer felt very uncomfortable. But Dean didn’t say anything, mostly because Lisa and Castiel came into the room then, followed shortly by Sam. Lisa and Castiel separated from each other’s sides to go to Dean, Lisa sitting next to Dean and Castiel putting himself between Dean and Lucifer. 

“Why is he sitting here?” Sam asked to Missouri. Lucifer had taken whatever food he was given and eaten quickly before leaving Sam’s presence for the past few weeks. In fact, it was rare that Sam and Lucifer were eating breakfast with the other in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said loudly, ending the talk in the kitchen. “Would you prefer that I eat on the floor like a dog?” Sam whipped his head over to Lucifer and glared at him. “No, I can see what you want. You want me to get down on my hands and knees and eat off the floor. Should I beg for scraps from your table?” 

“I di-”

“I’m tired, I think I’ll go back to bed,” Lucifer said. He grabbed his last piece of bacon. “Thank you for breakfast, Missouri. It was delicious as always.” He walked out, avoiding Sam completely. He’d been feeling good. Missouri and Dean had been talking to him. He didn’t feel like such an outcast. And then Sam came in. 

“I think you hurt his feelings,” Lucifer heard Dean say as he left. Lucifer nearly snorted. 

In his mind he knew he should be trying to repent or something. But Sam wasn’t going to forgive him, and he’d just reminded himself that no matter how much he liked the people he worked for or how much he did love Sam, or how much he wanted to stay it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t have control over his life anymore and maybe never had. Sam would let him go when he could do so with honor and Lucifer would be back on the streets and back to fighting to try and stay alive.


	13. Chapter 13

“I think you hurt his feelings,” Dean had said. Sam didn’t want to hear it. Lucifer’s anger surprised him, mostly because Lucifer hadn’t even seemed to care since he was found out. Sure, Sam still noticed the looks Lucifer gave him. Sam knew he was attractive and assumed that even if Lucifer didn’t want him as more than a meal ticket, he at least wanted Sam’s body. 

He’d just wanted to forget, even if only for an hour. Lucifer told him no, though. It had been a terrible idea to seek comfort in someone who had hurt him already, but Sam hadn’t known how ashamed he could feel until Lucifer turned him down. It angered him that Lucifer thought he knew him. It angered him more to know how much he would have regretted it in the morning. He regretted asking. He regretted just throwing Lucifer out. He regretted treating Lucifer like he was something owed to Sam, like every other noble. 

He was highly aware that he’d broken his promise to Lucifer. It didn’t matter that Lucifer had broken his promise first. Sam held himself to a higher standard. He had to. But that didn’t mean that he had an easy time considering apologizing to Lucifer either. He couldn’t lower himself anymore in front of Lucifer. He couldn’t be weak anymore. 

But Lucifer’s anger bothered him. It reminded Sam of himself. Sam didn’t get hurt. Well, he did, but he got angry when he got hurt. Sam was grieving. He shouldn’t have to deal with the emotional problems of a man who betrayed him. But even thinking that made Sam feel guilty. Lucifer didn’t have anyone else or anywhere to go. Lucifer had let go of the lease on his old apartment when he’d moved in with Sam. 

Dean had mentioned that Lucifer expected to be let go once his contract was up. Sam hadn’t planned on it. He’d planned on keeping Lucifer forever, no matter how bitter it made Sam feel. But then Grandfather’s new law made it so Sam didn’t have a good reason to keep Lucifer. Sam was coming to the realization that he just didn’t want Lucifer to go. He wanted to keep him nearby. 

It made him feel evil, not wanting to allow Lucifer to live his own life. Sam thought about it as retribution. But he hated thinking like that. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he wanted to wake up next to Lucifer. He hadn’t wanted anyone so much since Jess. 

He just wanted. It didn’t help that Lucifer moved around Dean’s campaign office with so much assurance. As much as Sam wanted to pretend sometimes that Lucifer had lied to him and that Lucifer was just a common man, Sam couldn’t. Lucifer moved like a noble, he gave orders like a noble, like the old money. He had strength in his gait that came from knowing his power. Sam had always admired that quality and wished he had it. Lucifer had it spades. 

“Do you really need him?” Sam had asked Dean only a few days into the campaign, after the funeral and dedication ceremony for their grandfather. 

“He knows this just as well, if not better than us,” Dean said. “And he’s the only one not afraid to just tell me when I’m wrong. Also, he actually knows the opponent. So yeah, Sam, I need him. You two can go back to avoiding each other once the election’s over.” 

That was the end of that conversation. 

Sam didn’t like watching Lucifer work because he liked it so much. He started having different dreams, dreams where Sam had met Lucifer at a party when they were both younger and Lucifer still had his name. Lucifer would quietly seduce him and Sam would fall so hard for the older, more powerful nobleman. Sam hated the Romeo and Juliette nature of the dreams, but Lucifer’s calm assurance made Sam scream into his pillows. He still wanted Lucifer. Beyond reason or sanity, Sam wanted Lucifer so bad that it physically hurt. 

“I need you,” Lucifer said. Sam was certain he was dreaming or had woken up from a dream. Sam saw Lucifer standing over him. People rushed around in the office, trying to get things together. Sam could hear someone shouting about Dean’s thoughts on the reformation. 

“Sam, I need you,” Lucifer said. He looked annoyed at having to say it again. 

“For what?” Sam asked, unable to stop the blush. 

“I need you to come with me to the courthouse. I have to check my citizenship status,” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. 

“What for?” 

“To see how much my vote is worth,” Lucifer said. 

“I don’t understand,” Sam said. His mind was drawing a blank. 

Lucifer blew out air through his teeth and then took a deep breath. He always did that when he was trying to stay calm and explain something to idiots. Sam wasn’t amused. “I was born noble, which means I’d have a stronger vote. But I was disowned. I need to know if that also means that there was a certain amount of disenfranchisement to my vote.” 

“You need to know how much of a noble you still are,” Sam said, finally getting it. 

“Yes, and I don’t want it to get around who I am just yet. I need you to go with me and do something legitimate so I can ask.” 

“I have a friend who works at the courthouse. I can go to see him and we can ask him about it.” 

“Will he be discrete?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam said. “And he owes me a favor.” He glanced at Lucifer who was shifted his weight from one foot to another. “What?” 

“I’m not certain how comfortable I am with you using a favor for me,” Lucifer said quietly. 

Sam wished Lucifer would stop moving. Where Sam was sitting had him right on eye level with Lucifer’s inseam and he couldn’t stop looking when Lucifer moved like that. Sam cleared his throat. “It’s not for you. I’m doing it for Dean.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer said. Sam glanced up at his face for a second. He couldn’t be certain, but Lucifer looked sad for a minute. Sam was certain he’d just imagined him. He stood up, suddenly finding himself chest to chest with Lucifer because Lucifer hadn’t backed up. 

“Shall we go?” Sam asked. Talking just pressed them together closer. Sam missed how blue Lucifer’s eyes were. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said, taking a step back. “Let’s.” 

Sam lead the way to the court house. Not that Lucifer wouldn’t be able to get there on his own, but Lucifer seemed like he was trying to be contentious of putting the Winchester family in an odd spot. It wasn’t like Michael didn’t know exactly where his younger brother was, but he was unlikely to call Lucifer out for the same reason that Sam was being honest about saying this was a favor for Dean: a noble who was working as a servant for another family would make neither his family, nor the family he was serving look good. 

Sam went toward security, allowing himself to be checked for weapons. Lucifer did the same, but they were quickly sent through. Sam didn’t bother going to reception, instead opting for the stairs and heading to the third floor and toward the clerk’s office. 

“You can’t be back here, sir,” one man said. 

“I need to speak with Mr. Warren,” Sam said. “I’m afraid it’s urgent.” 

“Sir, you can’t just interrupt Mr. Warren,” the man protested. 

“Tell him Sam Winchester needs to see him.” 

“Oh, okay,” the man said, going quite pale. He went into the only actual office room in the Clerk’s Office, all other men were busy typing away at desks in the large room, or filing in one of the side room. The man returned only seconds later. “He said to send you in.” 

Sam walked into the room, allowing Lucifer to duck under his arm before he shut the door. 

“Sam!” Sam’s friend boomed from behind his desk. 

“Zach, it’s been a while,” Sam said, walking to his old friend and shaking his hand. “Lucifer, this is Zachariah Warren, a friend of mine from university.” 

“A pleasure,” Lucifer said. 

“Well, sit, sit, please, tell me what I can do for you,” Zach said. Sam was glad to see that Zach had finally started to groom himself better, at least his beard and moustache didn’t look as devious as it used to. 

Sam and Lucifer settled into chairs in front of Zach’s desk. Zach was beaming like crazy. It made Sam feel good that his old friend actually trusted him. Sam hadn’t seen him in a few years although they both lived in the city. Of course Sam was only there for a favor, but Zach didn’t look like he dreaded it. 

“I need to call in a favor,” Sam said. 

“I owe you a life time of favors,” Zach said before turning to Lucifer. “You know Sam got me off a murder charge a few years back.” 

“You make it sound like I did anything,” Sam said. “I just suggested the appropriate council.” 

“And then went searching for facts to help me,” Zach said. 

“What happened?” Lucifer asked. Sam shot him a look, although he couldn’t tell Lucifer to shut up. Lucifer was his equal in all reality. It would be too strange to treat Lucifer like a common man and then turn around and explain that he wasn’t. 

“Some mad man dressed up like me and killed my fiancée,” Zach said darkly. “He did it to a lot of people, in fact.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer said. “The Shapeshifter case. I remember that one made huge waves.” 

“Bigger than the Jack the Ripper, except that they actually found the bastard,” Zach said. He looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. “In any case, I’d have been swinging if it weren’t for Sam helping me. I told you Sam, whatever it is, just name it.” 

“I need you to do something for me, discretely, very discretely.” 

“Is it illegal?” 

“No, just sensitive, especially around the election,” Sam said. He could see Zach looking skeptical, though he expected Zach would say yes even if it was illegal. “It’s concerning my friend here.” 

“Just tell me what it is, Sam. I can’t do it if you won’t tell me.” 

“My name is Lucifer Shurley,” Lucifer broke in. “Second brother of the main family. Michael Shurley is my older brother. I was disinherited probably around the time you were being charged with murder. I’ve lived as a common man since then, and I haven’t voted in that time either, though I kept up my registration. What I need to know is how much my vote will weigh.” 

“So you need to know if the head of your family disowning you means that you lose your titles too,” Zach said. Sam could almost feel Lucifer seething next to him. Of course Lucifer was very sensitive to the issue. 

“Yes,” Lucifer hissed out. 

“Well, I doubt you can inherit any land, but I’m not certain. We don’t normally get cases like that. I may be looking this up almost until the election, since I need to quietly get your files and look up previous cases of disinheritance,” Zach said. “But I can definitely find you an answer to your question.” 

“Thank you,” Sam said. He reached over and patted Lucifer’s arm to try and calm him. It would be bad if Lucifer did something stupid after Zach agreed to do them a favor. Sam felt Lucifer startle a bit at his touch. Sam glanced at Lucifer. He knew he must have been imagining it, because for a second it seemed like Lucifer was looking at him with longing. 

“Would you prefer I stop by myself with the results, or send one of my secretaries?” Zach asked, quickly jotting something down on paper. 

“Stop by if you can,” Sam said. “We’ll have lunch or something.” 

“Sounds good. Do try to come by when you don’t need something though, after the election. You have to meet my new wife, Liz. Sam, you’ll love her, I swear. And Rebecca was asking me the other day if you were ever going to come over again.” 

“I’ll come, I promise,” Sam said with a smile. He stood and looked at Lucifer who stood and followed him out. 

“That was surprisingly easy,” Lucifer said once they left the courthouse. 

“I told you, I had a friend who owed me a favor,” Sam said. “Did you doubt me?” 

“No, but I forgot what a good man you were,” Lucifer said. He adjusted his hat and his pace, keeping Sam on his right, away from the street. 

Sam bristled. “You think I would just use someone for my own benefits?” But that was what he’d tried to do to Lucifer, wasn’t it? The thought made him sick. He started to walk faster, wishing he could escape the conversation. He hadn’t really spoken to Lucifer since his fit of anger in the White House kitchen. 

“Sam, that wasn’t what I meant,” Lucifer said, grabbing Sam’s wrist and stopping. Sam stopped too. He took a deep breath and turned around. Lucifer looked confused but worried. Sam hated that face because he wanted to kiss it away. It seemed real. For all he knew, Sam could just be getting set up again. Only this time it might actually give Sam a heart attack because he couldn’t keep losing people he cared about. 

“Then what did you mean?” Sam asked. 

“I meant,” Lucifer glanced around at the people on the streets. “Can we go someplace more private?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “The Men of Letters house isn’t far.” Lucifer dropped his hand and they started to walk again. Sam felt like there was a very tense and very fragile silence between them. He wished he hadn’t asked Lucifer about what Michael said. He wished he hadn’t made a fool of himself a few weeks back. He wished Lucifer hadn’t asked him for help today. Why did he have to tell Sam that he needed him? There had to be a less suggestive way to ask for help. 

Sam was happy to be inside the Men of Letters house. He slipped off his coat, leaving it on the coat rack. He watched Lucifer do the same. Sam turned away and headed toward the stairs. It took him until he was halfway up to the first floor before he realized that Lucifer hadn’t followed him. He walked back down and saw Lucifer standing at the bottom like an obedient puppy. 

Sam did not need that mental image, especially because of how adamant Lucifer was that he was not a dog. Lucifer had mentioned time on the streets and Sam sometimes wondered what exactly Lucifer had done to have enough money for food or some kind of shelter. But Sam didn’t ask, because that seemed too much like caring. 

“Are you coming?” Sam asked. 

“I’m not allowed up there,” Lucifer said. 

“You are if I take you to the Winchester room. I promise you won’t see anything that you’re not supposed to see. Now come.” 

Lucifer followed after him. It would have been easy to order Lucifer around. Sam knew he’d been a soldier and he’d done things that he hated during his life, and he’d probably done them all on orders from others. Sam could imagine exploiting that weakness, but in his imagination Lucifer was panting and asking him for it. And any time he thought of that he ended up thinking of Lucifer’s body reacting to his ministrations, while Lucifer’s hands twisted hard in his hair to force him away. 

He hadn’t treated Lucifer right. Lucifer, for all that he had lied, was still in Sam’s employment. Sam kept reminding himself that Lucifer had no home to return to, and probably little money. Anyone else would have received better treatment from Sam. Dean, Castiel, Lisa and Missouri had all warned him against his attraction to Lucifer. But Sam had acted instead of thought. And he kept doing it, so the guilt ate at him. 

Sam led Lucifer to the Winchester room. It was a private study, books filing the shelves. Sam had Lucifer sit facing away from the books and toward the wall with the nice paintings on it. “So, what did you mean, then?” Sam asked. 

“Are you certain this is okay?” Lucifer asked. He looked uneasy. 

“Lucifer,” Sam said with exasperation. 

“It’s just that I wanted to come inside my whole life, and it’s not okay for you to just casually take me up here,” Lucifer said quickly. He did look nervous. 

Sam sighed. On impulse he got up and walked to Lucifer. He knelt in front of him, resting his hands on the arm rests so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch Lucifer. “We are very secretive, but this is my family’s room, and we can bring anyone we believe we can trust here.” 

“I believe I have proven myself untrustworthy in the past,” Lucifer said with a brittle smile. 

“You’re helping Dean, for whatever reason. I’ve heard you talk. You advice isn’t just sound, it’s good. Missouri is talking to you. Hell, she’s friendly with you, not that I understand why of course, but I trust her,” Sam said. “And I’m not showing you anything that I can’t show someone else.” 

“So, not so special?” Lucifer asked. 

“No, not so special,” Sam said. It hurt him that Lucifer looked relieved. “So, will you tell me now?” 

“Oh, right,” Lucifer said. He leaned in and lowered his own voice. Sam could feel uncomfortable, but Lucifer looked so serious that Sam didn’t feel like he was being seduced or that Lucifer was trying to bother him. 

“Please,” Sam said. Lucifer blew a bit of air out his nose in an almost laugh and smiled just a little. 

“I’ve never been good at the flies with honey routine. No one in my family has ever been good at that. When Michael goes to call in a favor it’s because someone owes us money. When I went to call in a favor… well it was money sometimes, but often it was because I’d helped them acquire something they shouldn’t have.” 

“Something illegal?” Sam asked. 

“Not always. I wasn’t in some kind of underground slave trade, or something like that,” Lucifer said, shaking his head. “No, it would be like the pulp romance books I would slip to society girls for a few extra coins, or setting up another person with a romantic encounter with a negro woman, or a man, or wherever their tastes went. Opiates, alcohol, whatever they wanted I knew someone who could find it for them. I took a small finder’s fee and when I needed something else for someone later I’d go back to the people I’d helped acquire things for,” Lucifer explained. 

“That’s quite a life you had there,” Sam breathed. Lucifer smirked. 

“You would have loved it,” Lucifer said. 

“No,” Sam said. 

“Come on, I know you a little. You don’t detest rules and authority like I do, but you like playing the edges. You like the danger. You don’t jump the line because you’re smarter than me. But you bet on an older fighter because everyone else doesn’t. You came to watch me fight because you wanted to be in the ring yourself. You hunted down a murderer because you couldn’t stand to just sit in your office. My type of parties were a lot more wild than what you’ve ever been to. You would have clung to my arm and your eyes would have been as wide as saucers. You would have loved it, because it was exciting and you would have loved it because you would have known you were safe,” Lucifer said. 

Sam met his gaze. Lucifer was considering him. His expression wasn’t cold or warm or even curious. It was like he wanted him and didn’t want him. Sam didn’t know what it meant, but Lucifer seemed older and as out of reach as he had been when Sam first saw him in the ring.

“I forget that not everyone is like me, and it’s proven to be my downfall over and over,” Lucifer said. 

“What do you think I would have done if I had known you back then?” Sam asked. “And you’d been disinherited?” 

“Forgotten about me, probably,” Lucifer said with a shrug. Sam gave him a hard look. Lucifer blew air out his nose again. “Alright, you would have worried, but eventually it would have passed. You have a life that includes other people, and I’m well aware, by the fact that no one who knew me gave me any help, that I’m little more than a passing fancy.” 

“You think so badly of yourself,” Sam said. 

“And you think well of me?” Lucifer asked with a sneer. 

“I think that if you’d showed me everything you said you would have that I would have gone to find you, and when I found you I would have taken you back to my apartment and Jess would have made you soup while I got you a change of clothes and you washed up. I think Jess would have loved the excuse to stop using the other bedroom, and hell, maybe you would have eventually moved into the main bedroom as well,” Sam said. He blushed at the admission. It killed him, but thinking of both Jess and Lucifer wrapped around him sounded so perfect. 

“Jess?” Lucifer asked. His voice sounded gentle. Sam knew he didn’t know Jess, but the longing in Sam’s voice probably gave it away. 

“I was engaged before,” Sam said. “I didn’t always live with Dean. I lived on my own for years, and I met this girl, who I liked. Hell, I loved her.” He stopped for a moment. He didn’t want to say it. He just wanted Lucifer to know it and to stop asking. But Lucifer sat there patiently, waiting for Sam to meet his gaze and to keep going. 

“Jessica Moore. She was common, and I mean, not exactly like Lisa with all the lovers she’d had before Dean. I mean that she worked in a factory and for a while a café I liked to visit. And we flirted all the time until I just fell for her. She moved in, but still kept working. She told me she’d work until a week before we were married, that she liked earning her own living. I mean, oh Lucifer, she was so perfect. Lisa adored her. Missouri doted on her, Mom and Dad and Grandfather were so excited for the wedding. Castiel even liked her and he only knew for a little while.” 

“What happened?” Lucifer asked. He placed his hands over Sam’s where they still were on the arm rests. Sam made no move to pull away. 

“You read in the papers about the Triangle Waistcoat Factory[5] ?” Sam asked quietly. 

“Oh God, Sam,” Lucifer breathed. There was pain in his voice. 

“That was where she worked,” Sam said. He just felt like he had to say it. “They, the bastards kept the fire doors locked so the women who worked there wouldn’t hand out free clothes to their friends. But there was a fire and… I mean, a few girls made it out. One of them told me that Jess… that she helped get her out through the crowd because she was so young… but she just… there were too many girls that died.” 

Sam shut his eyes. He’d been to the wreckage. He’d seen the charred remains of what they thought was Jess. He’d buried her. He’d also sued the company and the men for every penny they had. He’d wanted them executed, but they were noble and they couldn’t even swing a jail sentence. Poverty had to do, but Sam kept feeling burning injustice in his chest because the money went mainly to other nobles, though Sam gave every penny that he’d made on that case away. 

Strong arms circled him. Sam didn’t open his eyes. He could feel Lucifer’s knees on either side of him and Lucifer’s arms wrapped tight around Sam’s neck. Lucifer just held him. He didn’t stroke his back or his hair. He just held him. Sam thought it would be awkward, but he didn’t want to move. He wanted the comfort Lucifer was offering him. 

Sam knew they’d stayed that way too long when his knees wouldn’t even let him stay still. He pulled away with a groan, shifting to kneel on the balls of his feet. This couldn’t last for long, but he didn’t want to move away. 

“Why couldn’t you just have done that when my grandfather died?” Sam asked. 

“I would have,” Lucifer said. “I would have in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t what you demanded from me.” 

“Oh, right,” Sam said. He stood up. He planned to walk around to try and work the soreness out of his knees. But Lucifer grabbed his hand again. 

“Sam?” he asked. 

“Yes?” 

“If you wanted me some other time… you know I wouldn’t say no, right?” Lucifer asked. Sam blushed. His hands seemed to tighten involuntarily around Lucifer’s. 

“I can’t put myself in a position like that,” Sam said. He looked down at their clasped hands. Lucifer tugged lightly like he wanted to get away, but Sam wouldn’t let go. 

“Do you still want me?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam nearly hissed. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Lucifer asked. He looked so confused and so hopeful. Sam just tightened his hold on Lucifer’s hand. 

“I just can’t,” Sam said. 

“The option is always open,” Lucifer said. He made to tug his hand away. Instead Sam pulled him up out of the chair. Lucifer stumbled into him. They stood chest to chest, examining each other. Sam wondered if he could feel Lucifer’s heart pounding, or if it was just his own heart. 

It was an impulse that made Sam kiss Lucifer. Lucifer gave in instantly, allowing Sam in. Sam knew his heart was pounding, he could hear it in his ears. He closed his eyes. Lucifer tightened his hold on Sam’s hand. It was like Lucifer just melted into him. Sam placed a hand on Lucifer’s lower back to help keep him up. 

Sam pulled away first, eliciting a groan from Lucifer. “I can’t,” he said. 

“You kissed me,” Lucifer pointed out. Sam opened his eyes. Lucifer was so close. It was be so easy to jump over that edge again. 

“I can’t,” Sam said. “I can’t trust you.” And he couldn’t jump back into where they had been without losing his heart again. Lucifer would really break him this time. 

Lucifer made to pull away, but Sam’s grip was stronger. Lucifer sighed. “Sam, I can’t get away if you won’t let me go.” 

“You could get away,” Sam said. 

“Yes, but I’d have to do some serious damage to you first. Just let me go,” Lucifer said. 

“I don’t want to,” Sam admitted. He didn’t know when he’d allow himself to give in again. 

Lucifer leaned in so he could press his lips to Sam’s cheek. “Sam, you told me that you can’t trust me. So you have to let me go.” It felt like he was talking about more than just that moment. 

It was Sam’s turn to sigh. He was going to have to let Lucifer go when his contract expired. He hugged Lucifer for a moment, just enjoying the feeling before he slowly unwound his arms. Their hands were still clasped, though. Sam looked down at their hands before looking at Lucifer. Lucifer was looking at their hands as intensely as Sam had just been looking. 

Lucifer drew their hands up. He brought the back of Sam’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Sam felt his face go hot, especially when Lucifer looked at him through his eyelashes. Sam grabbed Lucifer’s chin and dragged him back into a kiss. Again, Lucifer gave in to him. 

Lucifer pulled away first this time. “If you’re going to keep grabbing me and kissing me like that, I’m going to demand follow through.” 

Sam laughed. Something eased in his chest. It wasn’t forgiveness, but the ease they’d had with each other returned. It was better that way. Sam could deal with his one-sided crush, but he didn’t want to have to be mute around Lucifer anymore. He wanted to soak up the time they still had. 

“Thank you,” Sam said. He let go of Lucifer’s hand. 

“What for?” 

“Helping Dean. You’ve made this process a lot easier for him.” 

“You know I’m not doing this for you,” Lucifer said. “And I’m not doing it because of Michael. I like your brother, a lot. But Mostly I think that he’ll do what he thinks is right, and surprisingly I trust his moral compass.” 

“So,” Sam started slowly. “You’re supporting him because you think he’s the best choice.” 

Lucifer nodded. “You think that I’m apolitical?” 

“Well, not exactly.” 

“Or is it that you assumed this is my continuing wish for revenge?” Lucifer asked. 

“Well,” Sam said with a shrug.

Lucifer looked away. He walked over to the paintings and just examined them. He seemed to be particularly interested in the drawing of the hellhound. Some intelligent person had found a way to see one and drawn a diagram. It had been damn useful for them all.

“I won’t deny that I don’t still want my brother to hurt. But I’m very tired, Sam. I feel like I’ve been eating my own soul for a while,” he said. He sounded tired and he sounded old. “I don’t want to end up in ten years with still nothing… and maybe I wish my brother was more like Dean. But I still…” He sighed heavily. “I’m just tired.” 

“You don’t want to hurt him,” Sam said. 

“I want him to stay far away for me, and I want him to find me and drag me into his arms and hug me like he used to,” Lucifer said. His eyes were still on the picture. 

“Would you like to go home?” Sam asked. He meant back to the Shurley Mansion. 

“Please,” Lucifer asked. 

It took Sam a second, but he realized that Lucifer thought he meant back to the Winchester house. 

“Okay,” Sam said. “Let’s go home. Hold on, I need to leave someone a message.” 

He quickly jotted down a note and left to give it to one of the house clerks, the junior members who were still being initiated. When he returned Lucifer was still looking at the drawing of the hellhound. 

“Ready?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah,” Lucifer said. They walked out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [5] The accident at the Triangle Shirtwaist factory happened in 1911, hundreds of women were burned alive because the owners locked the safety doors to keep the women from giving handouts to their friends. The owners of the factory practically walked away scot-free, but a bunch of safety legislation was passed and there was a large increase in the woman’s garment maker’s union.


	14. Chapter 14

The diagram of the hell hound arrived for Lucifer the day they were going to find out the election results. The package was propped against Lucifer’s door when he got home. He was tired. They’d been to enough parties and it would take a while to get all the ballots counted and have everyone wire the results to everyone. Lucifer was expecting a few hours’ sleep at least. 

Some well-meaning maid had seen the package at the door, which had his name on it, and left it by his door, clearly. Lucifer scooped the painting up and took it into his room. He pulled the paper wrapping off until the picture, frame and all, lay on his bed. He stared for a minute. It had looked not just interesting, but real and he’d liked it. Seeing it now made his heart clench. 

“Sam,” he snarled. He turned and left his room, slamming his door as he went. He strode to Sam’s room and pounded on the door. “Sam Winchester, open this door right now!” He shouted. 

“What?” Sam asked, looking sleepy. He was in a state of half dress, and rubbed his eyes.

“You can’t keep treating me so well!” Lucifer snapped. 

“I don’t, what?” 

“The drawing, Sam. Why was it propped against my door?” 

Sam let his hand drop. “You liked it.” 

“So?” Lucifer asked. “It belongs in the Men of Letters house, not here with me.” 

“It’s a Winchester family heirloom, I can do with it what I want,” Sam said. 

“That still doesn’t explain why it was at my door!” Lucifer snapped. 

“Jesus, it’s like three in the morning, just come inside,” Sam said. He grabbed Lucifer’s arm and dragged Lucifer inside. 

“Sam, tell me why you left it at my door,” Lucifer hissed. Even inside Sam’s room, people would still probably be able to hear them if they were yelling. 

“I didn’t. One of the maids must have.” 

“No, Sam, why did you get it for me?” 

“Because you looked like you wanted it,” Sam said. 

“It’s been weeks since then, why did it just show up now?” Lucifer asked. 

“It, um,” Sam at least looked embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It took a while for me to get the Men of Letters to relinquish to me. I mean there are other copies. But it’s the original.” 

“Sam, why?” Lucifer pressed. 

“I wanted to,” Sam said. “I wanted to get you something you wanted.” 

“Damn it,” Lucifer said softly. He grabbed Sam’s collar and dragged him into a kiss. Sam just melted. He knew Sam wanted him. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn’t Lucifer just have him? 

“Lucifer?” Sam breathed, tugging away. Lucifer didn’t let go of Sam’s shirt, but Sam’s hands rested on his hips. 

“You could have me any way you wanted me,” Lucifer breathed. “So why won’t you just slam me against the closest surface? Why can’t you just stop being nice to me if you’re not going to keep me?” 

“Lucifer,” Sam said quietly. Lucifer shook his head. 

“I know. It’s because you can’t trust me. I know you can’t forgive me, but why?” Lucifer demanded.

He was exhausted. He’d been working on almost no sleep for the past two weeks, worried about the election and the fear that Michael’s constituents would try to attack Sam or Dean or Castiel or Lisa or Ben or Mary or John or Missouri just to hurt Dean. Lucifer had been all over security planning with Castiel and the secret service but Lucifer had been on edge the whole time. This was all almost over and one way or another when he got the election results he was going to pass out and sleep for three days. He knew he was too tired to be having this conversation, but he couldn’t stop the words. 

“I want you to forgive me,” Lucifer said. “I don’t want you to send me away. I want you to keep me. I don’t care that I still have a noble’s status. I want to keep working for you. I don’t want to move away, I want to stay here with you and your family. I don’t want to be exiled from my home again. And I can’t have any of it because I screwed everything up again.” 

Lucifer felt Sam’s hands cup his face. He’d been looking at Sam’s face the whole time, but he hadn’t been actually seeing him. Now he was seeing him. Sam looked confused and worried. Lucifer shut his eyes so he didn’t have to see the worried look when Sam let him down too gently. 

“You want me to forgive you?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said, keeping his eyes shut tight. 

“You hurt me,” Sam said. 

“I know. I know what I did? You think I’m not very aware-” Lucifer was cut off by lips slamming into his. Lucifer opened his eyes. Sam was kissing him. 

Sam pulled away, though he was breathing hard. “Just stop, stop talking so much,” Sam said. Lucifer could feel Sam’s thumbs stroking the apples of his cheeks. Lucifer took a rattling breath and tried to calm down. He didn’t like how close he felt to crying. 

“Please, don’t be so kind to me,” Lucifer begged. 

“Why?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer’s mount went dry. He licked his lips to stall for a second to try to think up a good answer. There wasn’t one. Sam was going to make him say it, wasn’t he? “I don’t want to be sent away.” 

“I don’t understand, though,” Sam said. 

“I’m in love with you, you idiot!” Lucifer snapped. “I’m in love with you and I didn’t even realize it until I’d screwed it all up. Just,” he stopped and took a deep breath. “Just stop being so kind to me. I can’t stand it when I know I have to leave in a few months.” 

“You love me?” Sam breathed. “Since when?” 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer admitted. “Except that I know that I look back to arguing with you in your office before everything came out, and I can’t remember a time before that when I was that happy.” 

“Okay,” Sam said. He let out a shaky sounding breath. 

“Okay?” Lucifer asked. What did that mean? 

“I forgive you,” Sam said. 

“Excuse me?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t pull away. Just body jerked a bit in an aborted effort, but he didn’t want to move away. 

“I forgive you,” Sam said. Sam’s thumbs made circles in Lucifer’s beard. He loved having his hair stroked. Sam had laughed at him the first time he’d stroked his eyebrows and Lucifer had just turned into a purring mess. Lucifer leaned into the touch. 

“Why?” 

“Because you want me to,” Sam said. Lucifer felt Sam move closer until their bodies were nearly pressed together. There had been more stray touches the past few weeks since their little make up. But not-so-accidentally brushing his hand over Sam’s back wasn’t the same as being chest to chest, where Lucifer couldn’t escape the smell of the wine Sam had at the party. Both tired and a little bit drunk. 

“Not a good reason, Sam,” Lucifer murmured. 

“I have trouble saying no to you. Surely you understood that by now,” Sam said. 

“I feel the same about you,” Lucifer said. 

“You told me no when you had to.” 

“When I had to,” Lucifer pointed out. “You forgive me?” 

“Yes, I forgive you,” Sam said. He moved one hand into Lucifer’s hair, scratching his blunt nails against Lucifer’s head like he would pet an animal. Lucifer leaned against Sam and closed his eyes, leaning into Sam’s touch. 

“Thank you,” Lucifer breathed. It all felt so good. 

“I can’t trust you yet though,” Sam said. 

“I understand,” Lucifer said. He forced himself away from Sam’s touches. It was hard. He wanted the good feelings and touches. He craved them. 

“Lucifer. You betrayed me, I can’t just trust you like before.” 

“Sam,” Lucifer said sharply. “I told you I understand. I don’t need an explanation. Not that it changes anything but I never betrayed you. I lied to you about my intentions, but I never sold your secrets. I never let anyone get close to you that shouldn’t. The worst thing I did was lightly drug the water the day I beat Castiel.” 

“You drugged Castiel?” Sam said, suddenly loud. 

“I drugged everyone, and not a lot,” Lucifer said. “I mean, yeah everyone said the water tasted a bit off that day, but it all tasted the same, so no one knew or cared.” 

“I can’t believe you,” Sam said in exasperation. 

“Let’s be honest, my dear. There is no way I was beating Castiel that day and I needed you to see me,” Lucifer said. 

“I always saw you!” Sam snapped. Sam gripped onto Lucifer’s shoulders like he mean to shake him. 

“How was I supposed to know that?” Lucifer snapped. “You watched me and betted on me. I thought it was an infatuation. I didn’t know you actually loved me. How was I supposed to even know when you never spoke to me? I thought it might just give me a chance to talk to you for a few moments so one day you might consider hiring me. I didn’t know you would want me like you did.” 

“If you’d known,” Sam said with surprising calm. “What would you have done?” 

“There’s no way I could have known.” 

“But if you had?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer stopped and thought. He didn’t want to lie to the Sam, so he needed the truth. It was just hard to find the truth in himself. He wasn’t certain. Lucifer flicked his gaze up to Sam who was waiting patiently for Lucifer to answer. Lucifer liked that about Sam, he didn’t normally demand answers to questions that involved deep thought. 

“I want to say that I wouldn’t have gone after you, that it would have felt wrong. But even when I started to understand I just shoved down my guilt and kept going. Sam, you turned my world on its head. People don’t love me.” 

“Lucifer,” Sam started. 

“I’m not asking for pity,” Lucifer interrupted. “It’s just true. My parents thought parties and politics were more important. Marrying for love was preposterous. Castiel’s mother loved a man and ran off with him, and you see what happened to her. Family was an obligation. I love my brothers. I would stand up to our father for them. I would get knocked aside for them or broken for them. I loved Michael most of all. But when our father died whatever kept Michael from doing what he wanted to me went away. He was always the stronger one. He grabbed me by my neck and dragged me out of the house. He told me I wasn’t welcome there or on any of our family holdings ever again. No one came to help me. I hadn’t known that I didn’t have friends until none of them came looking for me, and any family member I happened across turned me away,” Lucifer explained. 

Sam’s hands stroked circles on his shoulders in some kind of small and soothing massage. Lucifer went up on his toes so he could steal a kiss. When he pulled back Sam smiled for just a second. It was small and sad and it dropped back to blank. It wasn’t much respite for his explanation, but he didn’t really want to press on. 

“I could have lied to you that day,” Lucifer said. “But I didn’t want to lie to you anymore. I hate lying. I hate lying to you. But I only lied. I never shirked my duties. You know I didn’t.” 

“I know you didn’t,” Sam said. “I thought you were going to sell us out, or stop caring when you realized I wouldn’t help you. But you were every bit as prompt as you had always been. You did everything any of us asked. I wanted you to do something I could fire you for. I knew I couldn’t just let you go. But I wished you weren’t so good at your job. I wanted you to be petty and evil. But you just seemed tired.” 

“Don’t make me feel worse,” Lucifer said. 

“Not trying to,” Sam said. He nuzzled his nose against Lucifer’s. 

“I’m almost old enough to be your parent,” Lucifer said. 

“Please don’t put images like that in my mind,” Sam said with a hilarious grimace. Lucifer chuckled and kissed Sam. 

“Keep me,” Lucifer said. 

“You are kept,” Sam said. His arms circled Lucifer and pulled them together completely. Lucifer circled his arms around Sam’s neck and held him. They settled against each other. Lucifer focused on the sound of Sam’s breath and the feeling off his beating heart and the warmth and strength of Sam’s grip. Lucifer smiled into Sam’s shoulder. He was alright with being kept.

Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door. “Sam!” Castiel’s voice came through the door. “Sam! The results are in!” he shouted. Lucifer and Sam broke apart going to the door. Castiel didn’t even blink when they both stood in the door. He just grinned. 

“That was fast,” Sam said. 

“They started counting as soon as they could. But it was a big difference between the leads,” Castiel said. The leads were Dean and Michael. 

“Well, who won?” Lucifer demanded. 

“I didn’t say?” Castiel asked, tipping his head to one side. Lucifer normally found the confused Shurley head tilt cute on Castiel, but now he just wanted to grab his cousin and shake him. 

“NO!” Sam and Lucifer shouted. 

“Sam!” Dean shouted, barreling down the hall. He grabbed Sam out of the door way and nearly pulled Sam off his feet. “We won! We won!” 

“We won?” Lucifer asked. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked by the news or how Dean said it. 

“Yes. You, man, for a Judas, you’re surprisingly useful,” Dean said. “Come here,” He said. He grabbed Lucifer and kissed him full on the mouth. It wasn’t like a little kiss. It was passionate and Lucifer’s brain blanked out. When his vision cleared he could see Dean picking up Castiel, spinning him around and kissing him all over. 

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam asked, but he was laughing. He clearly had been laughing because he was using the door frame as support. 

“My husband won,” Lisa said with excitement, Missouri and Ben hot on her heals. “Sam, did you hear?” 

“We heard,” Lucifer said. But it hardly mattered because Lisa grabbed Castiel and kissed him hard. Dean whistled. Lisa smirked and dragged Dean into a kiss as well. 

“Ew, gross,” Ben said. 

“Let them be happy,” Missouri said. She went and dragged both Sam and Lucifer into hugs though. Lucifer wondered if she was going to crush his bones with that hug. Sam wiggled away first and scooped Ben up into a big hug. 

“We won,” Lucifer said quietly. 

“Yes, we did,” Missouri said quietly. She leaned away from the Winchester who’d become one big pile of hugging limbs and tears of joy. Castiel was dragged in when he tried to sneak away. Lucifer smiled, happy to see the family like that. 

“You’re family too,” Missouri said. Lucifer’s breath hitched. 

“I hate it when you read my mind,” Lucifer said. 

“You’ll live,” Missouri said. “Come on.” She grabbed him and dragged him into the sea of arms and smiling faces. 

Before it was over Lucifer had been at least kissed on the cheek by every member of the family, and Lisa and Sam both got him on the lips. They cracked open the celebratory alcohol and even Ben had gotten champagne. The sun had risen before they all separated to their different rooms. Lucifer couldn’t remember laughing so much in a long time. The happiness was just infectious, and his exhaustion made everything so much funnier. 

Lucifer tried to turn to head to his room, but Sam caught his arm. “No.” 

“No? Sam, please, I’m exhausted. Just let me sleep.” Lucifer wasn’t above getting on his knees and begging, or resorting to tears. He was too tired to care how guilty he made Sam feel. He considered this enough of a warning for Sam. Any emotional pain wrought would now be on Sam’s head alone. 

“Stay with me,” Sam said. “Tonight.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer said. “Okay, but don’t expect sex.” 

Sam laughed and Lucifer giggled. They leaned against each other to stay up. “I don’t think you can expect it either,” Sam finally said. 

Lucifer followed Sam to bed. They left their clothes on the floor and collapsed in the very comfortable mattress in a mass of naked limbs.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucifer laughed easily. It just traveled right up his throat and ripped out of his mouth. He was euphoric. The look on Michael’s face when Sam had grabbed Lucifer and kissed him in front of everyone had been perfect. Lucifer felt light like he was floating. 

“Revenge is a dish best served cold?” Sam suggested. 

“Shut up,” Lucifer said. “Pants off.” 

“You’re in a mood tonight,” Sam said, but he that didn’t stop him from starting to undress quickly. 

“Your brother was just inaugurated, and you say I’m in a mood?” Lucifer demanded before laughing again. He knew this lightness couldn’t last. Reality would come down hard soon when Dean actually had to run the country and the implications of Dean’s younger brother being in a relationship with the previously missing Shurley brother came to fruition. But Lucifer couldn’t find it in him to care. 

“Oh, I’m in a mood,” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows. Lucifer wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he was giggling. He grabbed Sam and pulled him into a kiss. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Sam.” 

“It’s legal, Lucifer,” Sam said with a patient smile. “Besides, I told you that I liked giving you things you wanted.” 

It was Lucifer’s turn to feel giddy. He pulled Sam into another kiss. He wanted to show Sam what it meant to him, but Lucifer didn’t have words or actions that would ever add up. It was just a petty little act of revenge, but it meant everything to Lucifer. 

Michael would know that Lucifer was happy and in a relationship Michael had tried to sabotage. Michael would probably think Lucifer had been working for the Winchesters to sabotage his campaign. Not that Lucifer hadn’t been, but Dean won the common man’s vote just like his grandfather had. Nobles counted, but the age of the common man was solidly established now. 

“Dean wants you in his cabinet,” Sam said. 

“Business? Now? Really?” Lucifer demanded. He grabbed Sam’s tie, helping him with it, since Sam didn’t seem to be able to figure it out. 

“You’re good,” Sam said. “You know people.” 

“I also have no problem with doing illegal things. He doesn’t want me anywhere near his White House, trust me,” Lucifer said through his teeth before kissing Sam again. 

“What are you going to do then?” Sam asked. 

“I’m working for you, aren’t I?” Lucifer pointed out. He got Sam’s tie off and dropped it on the bed. 

“You’re a noble. Hell, you probably even outrank me. You can’t be my body man. It’s not done.” 

“Sam,” Lucifer said with fond exasperation. “What we’re about to do isn’t done.” 

“You can’t fight for me forever,” Sam said. 

“I’m not in my grave yet,” Lucifer snapped. Sam kissed his nose as if to soothe him. 

“Lucifer,” Sam soothed. He started on Lucifer’s buttons, a lot slower than Lucifer wanted. 

“You don’t have to be gentle with me,” Lucifer said. 

“What happened to you being patient?” Sam asked with a little smile. 

“I was trying to seduce you,” Lucifer said. “And I had a very good reason to fear for my reputation and life.” 

Sam laughed. “So what, now that you know you can have me, you don’t bother with seduction.” 

“It’s your turn to do the seduction,” Lucifer said. He kissed Sam, just lightly. 

“I want you,” Sam breathed. 

“I want you,” Lucifer responded. 

“Do you really plan to work for me forever?” Sam asked. 

Lucifer groaned. “Sam, now, really?” 

“You’ll avoid it otherwise,” Sam said. 

“I’ll avoid it now,” Lucifer said. He looked at Sam through his eyelashes. Lucifer laughed when Sam snarled and pushed him down on the bed. 

“Just answer my question,” Sam said. Lucifer could play him, but he felt like Sam wanted assurance. Besides, Lucifer was trying for honesty.

“I don’t want another person guarding you. I don’t want anyone as much in your life as I am. I especially don’t want some younger man in that position.” Sam had been attracted to him as a fighter first. Lucifer wasn’t going to give him a chance to see someone else like that. 

“I’ll keep you then,” Sam said. He sat up and grabbed his tie off the bed. “Sit up.” 

“Why?” Lucifer asked, but did as he was told. Sam straddled his legs. Lucifer didn’t touch him, but allowed himself to enjoy the view. 

“Do you, Lucifer Shurley, swear to honor and protect the household of Winchester?” Sam asked in a very official voice. 

“Yes, I swear,” Lucifer said. Reverence was in his voice. It didn’t surprise him. 

“And do you swear to serve, honor and protect me during my life and yours, for all of our days?” Sam asked in the same voice. 

“I swear,” Lucifer responded. 

“Then I dub thee, Lucifer, Knight of Winchester,” Sam said. He flopped the tie on first one of Lucifer’s shoulders then the other, in a poor man’s version of a sword. It still sent a thrill up Lucifer spine. 

“And how may this knight serve his prince?” Lucifer asked. He grabbed Sam’s hips, pulling them close. 

“Kiss me,” Sam breathed. Lucifer did as he was instructed. 

THE FUCKING END!

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this fic over the summer, but removed it for personal reasons. I'm reposting it now. New chapter a day.


End file.
